That's All It Takes
by Penonymous
Summary: "You see, I never get caught!" That statement has always been true for the infamous Johnny C.   Until now, that is.
1. Capture

**Hi, I'm Pen! *insert cheesy opening line here* Yeah, enjoy this JTHM/Invader Zim crossover!**

**DISCLAIMER: All of the characters are Jhonen's except for Thomas!**

* * *

A pitiful, dark house lay just off of the road of this idiotic neighborhood. The gremlins of the idiotic neighbors in this suburb were sound asleep in their beds, twitching from their dreams. They dreamt of their supposedly glorious future, the females dreaming of being pink glittery things living in grand castles, the males imagining being a great action hero to save said princesses. They know nothing of how the world works. How society thrives on dividing constantly, creating imaginary groups just so that they can stereotype them all to make themselves feel superior. The ones that live on the fringes of it all are dubbed outcasts. If you're too thin, too pale, too tall, or too creepy, you're royally screwed. Especially if you're all of the above.

A certain occupant of the dark house knows this, had it ingrained in his soul over the years. He suffers daily from the whole of society grinding down on him, trying to force him to happily conform and take part in, maybe even add, to the buzzing hive of the throbbing city streets. There are several unsaid rules that he would have to follow, if he chose to comply. Compare yourself to others self-consciously. Mock the outcasts. Raise the spawn of idiots to be even more stupid.

He shook his head. He refused to take part in this. The human race has to be punished for their creation, their contempt, their mockery, all of it. He fingered a nearby knife. He has already delt out suffering today. Tried to create new ways to make them feel the torture he feels daily. The victims to anyone else would seem random. A teenage boy strapped to a wall. A middle-aged businesswoman trapped in a small cage. A young woman twitching from the horror she has witnessed thus far. But they were each selected for a reason. The boy had jeered at a young cowering boy, then had called the killer a faggot. The businesswoman had sneered at his appearance, then commented on it loudly to a passerby. The passerby, which had been the young woman, had openly laughed in response. People, in general, are truly detestable.

The man grimaced a little. The bit of humanity left in him resented the fact that he was fated for this job, almost wished he had been just as oblivious as the next human being. Perhaps he would have been happy then. Truly happy. But then, who would do the job for him? Surely not one of those incompetent mass murdurers, the ones on TV that killed an enormous amount of people, but were finally caught by the bumbling legal system. Pitiful. That's the only way to describe it. Just pitiful.

He sighed and lay back on the couch, his long arms and legs sprawling over the small piece of furniture. He almost wished that the doughboys would return. Almost. They had met their unfortunate end while Johnny had been making people's heads explode. At this point, though, they would normally urge him to either kill others or kill himself. At least that debating had filled the empty void that now seemed to penetrate every corner of this god-forsaken house.

"What am I supposed to do now?" the man said aloud. Only a faint cry from his basement answered him. He had tortured the needed number of victims. He had already had a couple brain freezies today. Squee was sent out of town just yesterday by his parents to the horrible camp of Wherethehellarewe. Everything was done that needed to be done. There always seemed to be a lull in his activity level a few hours before the sun rose. He seemed to grow tired and immensely bored. He carefully kept his eyes open and made sure never to make himself too comfortable. Why? Well, otherwise he would fall asleep. Sleep is a weakness and a complete waste of time. But when everyone else is either asleep or dead, what is there to do when one questions sleep?

"I think I'll just go out. Walk around town a bit," he decided after a while, answering his own question. He pushed himself off of the couch and stretched, feeling the vertebrae in his spine pop into place.

Just as he opened the door, he felt a sharp sting in his neck. He pulled a small dart out of his neck and smirked at it. They hardly affected him at all, normally. The potion residing within those tiny things caused a normal human to pass out, to crumple to the ground immediately. Johnny's body and mind have been trained to resist sleep in any of its forms. One dart could not possibly...

Johnny noticed that it was suddenly difficult to keep any form of balance. He leaned against the doorframe for support, trying desperately to stay upright. Weakness invaded every one of his joints. A cloudiness creeped in on his mind, pulling him deeply under...something. He shot a last disbelieving glance at the dart he still clutched in his hand right before he crumpled to the ground.

Something strange ocurred, though. Due to Johnny fighting the sleep so fiercly, his mind remained active although to all appearances, he slept soundly. His senses, besides for sight, worked perfectly. So he still felt the hard wooden floor beneath him, and still heard his own shallow breathing. He inwardly smirked. He had beaten sleep once again. The downside was that he couldn't move any of his limbs, nor could he even open his eyelids to see his attacker. A foot jabbed him in the side, and fury sparked in him. The attacker was lucky that he could not move, or else their lifetime would be literally cut short, no matter how long the lifelines were on his palms.

"Once again, I have given a great benefit for mankind using REAL SCIENCE! A wanted criminal, taken down by my own hands!" a pompous voice from above him celebrated. He knew that voice from somewhere, maybe from TV? He sounded like that one guy, the idiotic scientist that always seemed so egotistical and oblivious. The one with the supposedly crazy son.

"You did it once again, Professor Membrane," another nearby voice responded. So _that_ was the next name to add to his mental list of potential victims! Professor Membrane, supposed savior of mankind. Would his blood on the wall be any less messy or any brighter than the blood of the average human, due to his status? Johnny mentally growled. He truly despised this man.

"Of course I did! Now, to administer the second sleeping shot to ensure that he is completely unconscious!" Professor Membrane announced dramatically.

"Um, sir? That might be going a bit overboard. Is that second shot really necessary?" the other person asked. A deep-throated chuckle was heard in response.

"Why, it certainly is, Thomas! This man, Johnny C. I believe he is called, has slaughtered over three thousand human beings. It is also a rumor that he suffers from an odd condition that allows him to stay awake for months at a time with no sleep. Better to be safe and alive than dead on his wall!" the professor exclaimed cheerfully. Nny tried to cringe away, tried to move any of his limbs so that he could still be aware of his surroundings. The only thing he accomplished was that his steel-toed boot twitched. Another sharp sting is felt in his neck, and the homicidal maniac quickly succumbs to his most hated horror...a much needed deep sleep.

The scientist looked proud of his accomplishment while his colleague looked...to be blunt, nervous. Thomas hoisted Johnny's unconscious form over his shoulder carefully. As he followed his boss out the door, he couldn't help but question the motives of 'the best scientist ever'. Yes, capturing the now helpless mass murdurer was a great accomplishment, one that many wish they could boast about. But there was a weird, sick gleam in his boss's eye when he had originally kicked the fallen man. Thomas could almost see the mental gears spinning, of what was in store for this homicidal maniac.

Yes, Johnny had killed thousands. But Thomas studied his story enough, followed it along through the years, to learn something. Nny wasn't just a random, violent, crazed criminal that would slaughter you if were to so much as look at him, like most thought. He was more like...a genius with a tortured soul. If one were to actually _listen_ to the rants he gave right before the slaughter, they would find that it echoed with truth that made you think about what kind of things had occurred to make him more observant than the average human being. He was quite lucid for a supposed maniac.

Too bad Thomas was just a lower-ranking employee to the professor. Otherwise he might have actually had a say in what was to be done when they reached the lab. Inwardly, he scowled at the man who had saved mankind countless times. The man was sometimes a benevolent, kindred spirit that truly cared for his children. But other times, just around his colleagues, he acted like a stereotypical mad scientist. You can't exactly pick who you work for, though. Especially not in this day and age.

"We have reached the labs, Thomas!" Professor Membrane announced. "Let's go to the surgery room and conduct REAL SCIENCE, and cleanse this evil incarnate from the world for the good of humanity!"

"Sir?" Thomas asked hesitantly. "How, exactly, to do you plan to do this?"

"Horrible tests with a low survival rate! How else is evil supposed to be extinguished?" the professor pointed out a little too cheerfully. He eagerly darted inside the building. Thomas groaned and reluctantly followed. If it were up to him, Nny would be cured in some other, less painful way. He would, in Johnny's words, just switch him off and fix him. But what was he to do? He was just a lowly assistant to a mad scientist. He had no say in the matter concerning the fate of Johnny C.


	2. Creation

**Disclaimer: If you know the works of Jhonen Vasquez, then you know that most of the characters belong to him. Otherwise this wouldn't be 'fan' fiction.**

* * *

Awareness came with a blood-curdling screech and agonizing pain. A crimson haze slid over his vision, but was quickly replaced with a blinding violet light that was seemed more mental than visual. It was an endless cycle of strobing red and purple, with pure, untamed electricity coursing up and down his spine ceaselessly. No more screams escaped past his gritted teeth, though. Mustn't show weakness to his captors.

"SIR! THAT'S ENOUGH, HE'S AWAKE!" a young male voice cried out. The jolts of electricity ceased, and Johnny leaned against his restraints, panting.

"Hmmm, it seems you are correct, Thomas!" a lower voice boomed. "Very well. Let us begin the tests!"

"That's why you jolted him awake? Just so he could be aware enough to endure the pain of one of your horrible tests?" Thomas demanded.

Johnny glanced over at the boy in confusion. In truth, he was a boy just barely turned into a young man. Maybe he was eighteen? Twenty? Somewhere around there. With puke-colored hair and eyes the color of shit. No, that was being cruel. But Johnny felt he had every right to feel irked at these people. They had attacked him in his own home and restrained him while he was still...shudder...asleep. They deserved to have their torsos slit open and...something else. For some reason, Johnny felt blank spots in his mind. He shook his head. Stupid weariness weakening his mental processes.

He strained against the steel cuffs 'safely' restraining him from doing something horrible to his captors. He shot a look of pure venom at Professor Membrane.

"When I free myself, you will all undergo an extreme pain unknown to even Satan! Anything that you're imagining pales in comparison to what I have planned for you. Knives plunging into your torso, perhaps, maybe a hand or foot shoved in a wood chipper while your broken goggles are shoved down your windpipe!" Johnny snarled. Thomas stared at him, jaw dropped.

Professor Membrane ignored Johnny's rant. "This murdurer deserves to feel himself in the making of becoming a better person! Or killed. Whatever comes first. You never _can _guess which brains are more resiliant than others." At this, Professor Membrane boldly walked over to the trained killer and yanked a strand of hair from Nny's head. The professor smirked at the profanities flying from the maniac's mouth.

Thomas's head whirled around to his boss in realization. "Wait, WHAT? You're going to operate on his brain while he's still AWAKE?"

"Yes! Why? Tred carefully on your answer. You are merely the assisstant in this operation, and are easily replaced."

"Er...right. You may proceed, Professor Membrane," Thomas muttered. Johnny glared at him. He was just fulfilling the stereotype of humanity in the workplace. More concerned with keeping his worthless, hated, mediocre job than determining and defining his own opinion, regardless that anyone else may object. Spineless worm.

"May I suggest experiment BJCZ7 first, professor?" Thomas hesitantly asked. "It would increase my experience, and I've been wanting to try it for quite a while now."

"Hmm...very well! Would you like me in the room while it is carried out?" Professor Membrane inquired. "It most likely will fail, you understand."

"No, I think I can handle it alone," Thomas responded in an affirmative. His boss nodded and strode casually out of the room.

"Coward," Johnny hissed when the doors slid shut behind the professor. "If I were free, your eyeballs would be ripped out of your sockets and your blood would drench the-"

"Yes, I get the point!" Thomas snapped. "Just be still for a moment. I need to begin the procedure. You're lucky that he approved it."

"_I'm_ lucky? I'm strapped to a wall, my weapons have been taken from me, my everyday life is a living hell, and I'm going to undergo brain surgery by a mad scientist while I'm still awake! How, praytell, is _that_ lucky?" Johnny snarled, looking quite feral. The assistant cringed away for a moment, then stepped forward defiantly.

"It's lucky because if my procedure succeeds first, you'll still be alive, even if my boss technically kills you!" Thomas retorted. "Reincarnation won't work again for you. A spirit can only do that once, you know. However, one's spirit can be transferred to another body through this experiment that I invented. Through technology, I can actually capture the essence of who you are and store it conveniently on a flashdrive until the painful brain experiments are over."

Without waiting for Johnny's response, Thomas stuck a lot of strange-looking electrodes over the maniac's face, nearly getting his hand bitten off in the process. He ran over to his computer, typed a few things in, put a brand new master flashdrive in a slot, and pressed start.

There wasn't any bright flash or sudden jolt, so Johnny at first suspected that it had failed. But then he felt strange. His memories started to fade away, making it difficult to even recall his own name. His personality and the bit of humanity in him left then, leaving behind only emotions. By the time the procedure ended, Johnny's body stared blankly at the flashdrive that Thomas held up triumphantly, having absolutely no clue what it was.

"YES! It actually worked!" Thomas celebrated. He walked over to Johnny's body and snapped his fingers close to the body's face. It flinched.

"Interesting, reflexes are still intact," Thomas murmured. "It's almost like without personality, the body is on autopilot."

The empty brain of Johnny C. had no clue what this man said, nor what had just occurred. But some leftover emotion lingered, the feeling of wanting to desperately escape. Without the rage encompassing it, the body realized that it could just calmly slip its skinny limbs out of the cuffs. It waited until the strange man turned around before fleeing out the door. Thomas turned around and gaped at the empty wall.

"Um...this isn't good," Thomas moaned. Professor Membrane chose to walk in at that moment, and stared at the empty wall.

"Thomas! What has occurred here?"

"Er...Johnny escaped before I could start the procedure," Thomas lied. Professor Membrane shook his head, instantly believing his assistant's words.

"That's a shame. Well! I suspected something like this might happen eventually, and that's why I stole that strand of hair."

"What?"

Professor Membrane smiled gleefully. He stepped aside, revealing someone tall nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe. "A clone, Thomas. This clone is just as deadly as the real Johnny C. The difference is that he works completely for the government. He will hunt down his counterpart and kill him, so that way, there is only himself. He'll benefit society by hunting down every killer and killing them, making the streets safe for the average person to tread. The difference is that to every average human being, he is quite kind and patient. His name is J."

J looked up at the mention of his name, stepped into the room, and smiled at Thomas. It didn't have the slightest hint of malice in it. "Hello. Please, sir, do you know in which direction Nny headed?" the clone asked pleasantly, as if he were asking directions to the nearest bus station. Nonetheless, Thomas visibly paled and stepped back. The clone's happiness scared him.

"Um...I don't know. I wasn't watching when he escaped," Thomas explained. J shrugged.

"Ah, no matter. I will simply guess. Thank you ever so much for your help," J replied happily. He walked calmly out the door, whistling happily.

"Professor, why didn't you just work on the clone's brain instead of Johnny's?" Thomas asked.

"Because it turns out that it's much easier to make a new brain than to tamper with a used one," came the response. Thomas ran his thumb over the flashdrive in his pocket protectively. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to remove the essence of Johnny. If he hadn't, then he might have stood a chance against his counterpart. Johnny's body was truly doomed without the ferocity that defined him.

* * *

J wandered through town, smiling at passerby. Some strange looks were shot his way, but he didn't care. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion, and shouldn't be punished for it. This world was too wonderful to miss out on a single moment! Well, except for those who wish to take that gift from others, J amended. He frowned slightly. It was a shame that he had to destroy those killers, instead of trying to help them. Especially that one person he had to track down. Johnny C. The person he thought he was until that nice professor had explained everything, including his purpose.

Speaking of purpose, it was time to concentrate on the mission at hand. No matter how vile it was, it must be accomplished. But where would Johnny hide? J searched through his/Johnny's memories, trying to think of places of refuge. There's his house, Squee's house, Taco Smell, the overlook with the parking lot, and Devi's apartment. He decided to look for Devi first, explain things to her.

By explain, J meant lie. Professor Membrane had specifically told him that he was to replace Johnny C. and take his place. He had to convince Devi that he had turned over a new leaf, that a professor had extracted the evil from him, and that he had to just destroy it to be sane for good. Surely she would help. J's footsteps lightened a bit at the thought. His memories told him that Devi was absolutely gorgeous, a rare gem that should be protectively treasured. He came across her apartment building, strode up to the door, and buzzed to be let in. The door unlocked, and he walked down the hall to Devi's room. When she opened the door, her mouth dropped in disbelief.

There was one thing that J hadn't considered. He may be a clone of Nny, but he still looked very different. His normally wild dark hair was cut short to his head. There were no dark rings around his eyes, because the new Johnny didn't question sleep in the slightest. His normally black, skinny clothes were replaced with ripped blue jeans, white tennis shoes, and a red t-shirt with a smiley-face in the front. There were no scars of past battles on his face, and his eyes were bright with hope. He looked like a normal human being, and it was all a mockery to Johnny's name, the equivalent of spitting on his namesake and stomping it into the proverbial dust.

J realized this too late, and bit his lip nervously. "H-hi, Devi." Even his voice was smoother, free of the sudden high-pitched crack of insanity and desperation that normally revealed itself often in his regular speech pattern.

"Um, Johnny. You're...different," Devi commented.

"Yeah, isn't it great?" J replied.

"I guess. But that doesn't mean you can come in," Devi responds. J rubs the back of his neck anxiously, remembering the last time that Johnny and Devi had hung out, it ended horribly with Johnny wanting to 'immortalize the moment' by killing her. Saying it was the wrong move is a gross understatement

"So, you're still irritated by that?"

"If someone tries to kill me, Johnny, I tend to try to avoid them."

"Good point. But I've changed, honestly!"

Devi crossed her arms doubtfully. "Changing your clothes and getting a haircut doesn't make you different. Your head could still be messed up."

"It's not, I assure you. Professor Membrane made sure of that."

"Now I know you're lying. You hate that guy too much to let him come near you willingly. Good-bye, Johnny." At this, Devi slammed the door in J's face. He blinked in confusion. That had not gone at all like he had planned. He had imagined that Devi would be thrilled with this change, and would happily join him in eliminating evil. Maybe she actually _liked_ the fact that Johnny was, well, Johnny. Or maybe she hated Johnny so much that she couldn't look beyond traumatizing past events. J shoved his hands and his pockets and shrugged. Girls. Who can predict them?

Maybe he'll visit his own home now, look for Johnny and clean it up a bit. Make it look presentable, like a normal home, and get rid of any corpses or torture devices. J decided that if he had to replace Johnny C, he had to at least make the house be nice and clean for any company he would want to invite over in the future. J got excited at the prospect, and nearly ran home in his haste.


	3. Transfer

**DISCLAIMER: Jhonen's characters belong to him, obviously. **

* * *

The unnamed body of Johnny C. glanced fearfully around at his surroundings. He had no clue where he was, and the emptiness filling his mind nagged at him. He hadn't really left the grounds after escaping, he had just hidden in the shadows. He raised an eyebrow when he saw a strange man walk out of the building, whistling. He studied the man's appearance carefully, wondering why it looked so familiar. It struck him then. It looked exactly like himself, just cleaned up a bit more.

He saw the person head South, so he headed North. Something wasn't quite right about that person. They were too...happy to be mentally balanced, and therefore not trustworthy.

* * *

Thomas excused himself from the room and went to the nearest computer. He navigated to a certain website, logged in, and composed himself.

"Agent Shadowbeast," a dark sillohuette greeted.

"Hello, Agent Darkbooty," Thomas responded. "I have a small situation that deals with needing an electronic brain."

"Interesting. Elaborate."

"You know that homicidal maniac guy?" Thomas asked. Darkbooty nodded. "Well, Professor Membrane was going to do painful brain tests on him while he was awake. I did what I thought was correct, and put Johnny's memories and personalities into this flashdrive until the tests were over. Despite his reputation, I didn't feel like he deserved to be awake and active during brain surgery."

"That was the correct choice," Darkbooty agreed. "But something tells me that more occured."

"Er, yes. The body of Johnny escaped, and a clone made by the professor is out to destroy it. I'm afraid that if the clone succeeds, Johhny will forever remain as just a flashdrive. I need some kind of electronic brain to upload him into so that he can help us get rid of the clone and so he can get his body back."

"Hmm...that's quite a story," Darkbooty mumbled. "Normally we would go through the long and drawn out process to figure out who, exactly, should be assigned this mission, but I think I know just the person to help us with this situation. He claims he's been tracking an alien, and that the alien has a mechanical device attached to its back. Maybe he can help you."

"What is his code name?"

"Agent Mothman. I'll transfer your call to him now." Darkbooty faded out, and Thomas was confronted with a video feed of an empty room.

"Um, hello?" Thomas called out. He heard crashing sounds, and a figure stumbled to the camera. Even as a sillohuette, Thomas could tell that the agent was quite young, and had just gotten out of bed.

"Yes?" Agent Mothman yawned.

"I hear you've been hunting aliens lately," Thomas said, straight to the point. "How far along are you with that?"

"Is this another status report, Agent Shadowbeast?" Agent Mothman grumbled. "Because I've already given it to a different agent, and he laughed in my face."

"No, this is nothing of the sort. I merely want you to do something for the Swollen Eyeball Network, which includes the information you've gathered so far."

The other agent raised an eyebrow at this. "I'm listening."

"Someone told me that you encountered a case of an aliens backpack, or something. Could you explain it, please?"

"Well, the alien's name is Zim, and he wears this thing that looks like a backpack on his back. He calls it his Pak, and when I stole it one time, it attached to me," Agent Mothman explained, fully awake now. "At first, not much happened. Then all of a sudden, I start thinking like Zim, acting like him even. It even got to the point where I created a death robot called 'Destructo' to destroy mankind."

"So, you're saying that this...Pak...is kind of his brain?" Thomas inquired.

"Yes."

"I see. Well, it just so happens that I hold in my hand a flashdrive containing all of someone's memories and every aspect of their personality," Thomas said, even holding up the little memory stick for effect. "Do you think that if it were plugged into the Pak that it would override this Zim person's brain and be able to control his body?"

The sillohuette scratched his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe. Is the person's personality strong enough to handle it, though?"

"Oh yes," Thomas chuckled. "Extremely strong."

"Then it just might work. I'll send over Zim's coordinates, unless you would want me to do it..." Agent Mothman trailed off, a hopeful note in his voice. Thomas smiled at this, happy that someone else could take charge for a change.

"I'll send the flashdrive right over," Thomas promised. Agent Mothman grinned, but looked puzzled.

"Who exactly is in that flashdrive? And how did they get in there?" the boy asked.

"Long story. The short version is that this person is Johnny the homicidal maniac. You have most likely seen the recent slaughterings? That was his work. The only reason he's in here is that his body was about to undergo hideous tests while he was still awake. I saved him. But now his body's missing and an imposter is out to destroy him. We need to get him back to the real world so he can destroy the imposter who goes by the name of J. Any questions?"

Agent Mothman's eyes widened. "THAT guy? Why should we help him if he wants to kill everyone?"

"Because Johnny is the person that bears the brunt of most of humanity's problems, and yet he still is able to have some sane moments. Quite impressive, really. If he didn't exist, the job would fall to somebody else, someone likely to be even more insane than Johnny. Think double the massacres, triple the victims, and...well...you get the picture. Our reality would collapse in on itself, destroying every human being."

The boy grimaced. "Okay, I get it. I'll do the job for the good of humanity. Put the flashdrive in the holographic transporter, and I'll get to work as soon as I am able to."

"Very good. I'll make sure that you get a higher rank for this from Darkbooty," Thomas promised. He set the flashdrive on the transporter next to him, typed in some coordinates, and pressed the button. The memory stick vanished, and Mothman held it up in front of the camera.

"Got it. Thank you, Shadowbeast. May your eyeballs stay swollen." The boy looked eager to begin his mission. Thomas ended the transmission, relieved. Now it was out of his hands. Thank God. Now he can get back to living a more normal life without having to watch his back every second.

Thomas whistled a cheery tune, logged out of the computer, and trotted down the lab's hallways. Maybe he could do some tests on little hamsters now. Combine a few of the Professor's mixtures and see what happens when the rodents drink them. Super powers? Maybe. Hopefully. Wouldn't that just be neat if he found that solution?

* * *

Johnny didn't know where he was, and it infuriated him to no end. He paced up and down the plastic walls of his container restlessly, scanning the walls for a way out, or even a weakness. Anything would do at this point. But no, the walls taunted him with the possibility that there was no escape, ever. The only hope he allowed himself to have, which he felt might be a mistake in itself, was that he would escape this confinement very soon. But soon enough isn't soon enough for him.

"This is just great, just fucking great," Johnny groaned, leaning against a wall. "I'm never captured! NEVER! God, how I HATE this! How could this have happened?"

Even his own echo had the intelligence not to answer that question.

"Everything better be back to normal when I escape, at least," Johnny growled. "Or there'll be hell to pay."


	4. Mistake

A scythe-haired boy leaned on his arm, trying to pay attention to the lecture even though his eyelids were heavy. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, since some kind of higher up from the Swollen Eyeball Network had awoken him at three in the morning. And the excitement from the new mission gave him a temporary energy that only lasted for about half an hour, leaving him only two and a half hours left to sleep, which his insomnia didn't allow him to enjoy.

_'I've got to stay awake,'_ he thought, trying to get uncomfortable in his desk, hoping it would prevent him from drifting off. The green child a few desks over shot him a weird look, but returned its attention to the clock. All class period the green skinned kid, Zim, had seemed both irritable and impatient. Something that normally Dib would take note of, but he was too tired to care. Did Zim ever need to rest? Why is it always humans who have to, and alien species never seemed to need it? _'Question sleep,'_ he mentally told himself with a chuckle, remembering a certain human who did just that. He pulled out the flashdrive and turned it over in his hands, still finding the concept of what it contained amazing. An entire person, all of their hopes and dreams and opinons, contained in such a small piece of technology. Now, he had to think of a plan of how, exactly, he was going to get the contents of it into Zim's Pak. He doubted it had an Earthen USB slot.

"...and that, class, is exactly how each of you will die if you were foolish enough to choose to be born," the old teacher hissed at them. The bell rang at that moment, sparing them from another lecture about doom. Some leapt out the windows eagerly, others took the traditional route out through the hallways.

"What is that device you are holding?" a harsh voice commanded, directly in front of Dib. He looked up to notice a pair of big eyes staring at him suspiciously. If he focused, he could see the alien eyes behind the white 'normal human' contacts.

"Haven't you ever seen a flashdrive before, space boy?" Dib retorted, tucking said flashdrive into his jacket pocket. "Or do they not have those on your planet?"

"Uh...of COURSE Zim has seen its like before! I was merely testing you...to see if you knew yourself! I AM NORMAL!" the alien hastily responded, covering up his lack of knowledge in that area. With that said, he shot one last glance at Dib's jacket pocket before marching out the door. Dib followed behind sneakily, a plan forming in his mind. He would plug it into Zim's computer, then send it to the Pak wirelessly! Risky, but that was the only plan he had right now.

There was the teal house, the one with the purple door. Dib couldn't tell if Zim had a bathroom door as his front door as a joke, or if was just his obliviousness kicking in again. Coils stuck out of the skinny house's sides, entering into the two apartment buildings on either side. Why did they not find this odd? Why did they just ignore it, not even caring that an alien was living next door? The boy thought all of this in an instant, still focused on following right behind Zim without being noticed. He almost got caught at the door, Zim's antennae probably picking up some sort of sound he was making that the human ear couldn't detect. Zim had scanned the lawn suspiciously while Dib used his ninja skills to stay perched on top of the edge of the door. He slipped in just as the alien closed it.

"GIR!" the Invader barked, removing his human disguise. A cyan-eyed robot tackled his master to the ground.

"Mastah! I thought yous was gone FOREVAH!" Gir cried out. "I LOVE you!"

The Irken raised an eye at his minion, pushing him off. "Zim was only gone for Skool, Gir."

Gir smiled. "Why?"

"To learn about Earth's defenses."

"Why?"

"So I can destroy it easily!"

"Why?"

"Because my Almighty Tallest expect it!"

"Why?"

"I'm an Invader, that's my job!"

"Why?"

"All of the other jobs are beneath me!"

"Why?" Gir inquired again, giggling. Zim's eye twitched in anger.

"ENOUGH! This is giving me a headache!"

"Why?" Gir screeched in joy. Dib stifled laughter as the small Irken hissed through his zipper-like teeth.

"If you hadn't been given to me personally by my leaders, Gir, I would almost expect that you are commited to making the great Ziiiim INSANE! Is that what you want? For me to be insane as Dib?" Zim asked of his minion.

"YES!" the robot squealed. Then he cocked his head to the side at the Invader's expression. "No?"

"Yes Gir, no," Zim replied.

"Yes, no, yes, no, yes no!" Gir sang happily. Zim sighed in exasperation.

"I'm going into my labs to experiment on the test subject, Nick I think his name is. Don't bother me," Zim ordered, marching over to the toilet.

"Oh, he's gone," Gir answered with a silly grin. The Irken froze and turned his head slowly to his minion.

"He's WHAT?" was the shrieked answer.

"I gave him a cupcake and let him go!"

"WHY would you DO that?"

"Cause he asked nice!" Gir responded. Zim started to yell at his minon again, and Dib decided that he's had enough of this. He crawled across the ceiling and over to the trash bin entrance. As soon as both of his feet touched the bottom of the can, Zim whirled his head around. Dib descended right as Zim was about to attack him. The boy sighed in relief as the elevator calmly took him down in silence, quickly bringing him to the desired destination.

Dib looked around in wonder. The young paranormal investigator never tired of looking at the alien lab, with all of its amazing technology. But this wasn't a time for sightseeing, the alien could arrive at any moment! He ran over to the main computer and plugged in the flashdrive.

"File found," the computer said in a bored voice. "Say, aren't you that big-headed enemy of Zim's?"

"Stop making fun of my head!" Dib snapped.

"Geez, sorry. You have issues, you know that?" the computer pointed out. "Now, what do you want to do with this...file thing?"

"I want to transfer it to a Pak," Dib announced.

"Please type in the Pak ID," the computer replied smugly, bringing up the ID screen. "Bet you don't know how to do that."

"Shut up!" Dib replied harshly. "I can figure it out." He typed in numbers at random, ignoring the snickering robotic voice that informed him each time that the code didn't register.

"Hi puppy head!" a different, higher pitched robot voice squealed. Dib whirled around at the noise just as a wall of green tackled him to the ground, hissing and jabbing at his eyes. The human fiercely fought back, trying to get back to the keyboard.

"WHAT are you DOING in my BASE, Dib-worm?" the alien shrieked.

"Saving the world!" Dib growled back, yanking hard on his enemy's antennas. Zim yelped in pain and clawed at Dib's face.

"Lookit me! Lookit me!" Gir exclaimed, pushing random buttons on the keyboard. The monitor's screen flashed green. "Woo! I'm winning!"

"Code accepted, for once," the computer announced, interrupting the fight between Irken and human. "File sent."

Zim turned to Dib. "What file?" he asked quietly, dangerously.

Dib backed up. "Er...a personality file," the child admitted.

The Irken yanked Dib up by his hair. "_Whose_ personality?" Dib mumbled something quietly, and the Irken shook him violently. "WHOSE?"

"OW! Knock it off! Johnny, okay? Johnny C, famed homicidal maniac! The one who killed all those people lately!" the human shouted. The Irken visibly paled and dropped his enemy in shock, recognizing the name. The little Invader ran back to the keyboard, pushed Gir aside, and frantically started to push buttons. An error message or a 'RESTRICTED PAGE' popped up each time the enter button was pressed. Sometimes a picture of the Scary Monkey popped up, the computer's attempt to aggravate its master. All Zim got in the end for his efforts was the key code Gir had sent the file to, and when he read it, he paled even further and cringed away from the screen.

"This isn't good, it can't be..." Zim mumbled, holding his head in his hands. "It would explain...but this...and now...YOU!" Zim turned suddenly to Dib, marching over to him with fire in his eyes. "This is ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"What did I do?" Dib retorted. "So the file went somewhere else. We can just get it back, and-"

"Don't you think I've _tried_? Even my best hacking skills can't get past the firewall! If Johnny takes over his personality permanently, I'll MURDER YOU!" the Irken Invader shouted.

"Hold on, hold on, just try to calm down." The human backed up, moving slowly so as not to trigger anything hasty from his enemy. "Who was it sent to?"

Zim groaned. "Of ALL the possible Paks, Gir HAD to input _his_ ID."

"WHOSE?" Dib demanded.

* * *

**A/N: And...cliffhanger! Oh, aren't I evil? :D**


	5. facepalm

**A/N: You know what's ironic? After writing the last chapter about Johnny being sent to a Pak via flashdrive, I started writing this chapter on a flashdrive. Then, when I tried to send the file, it refused to move to any other computer. I don't know, I just thought it was kind of funny that the file all about where Johnny ends up refused to end up anywhere itself.**

**And I kind of feel sorry for the person he ends up possessing. He SO doesn't deserve it, since the character is my second favorite person on the show. But, that was where the story took me, so I didn't fight it. Poor, poor character.**

**Disclaimer: The characters are Jhonen's!**

* * *

Johnny felt his spirit slam into something, then stillness. Was he back to abnormal (since he wasn't ever _normal_, after all)?

He cracked an eye open warily, vision blurry. He saw a lot of small green figures moving everywhere, quickly and with a purpose. They looked like children, groups of little green children with a strange marching step, even while running. Each of them wore a small metal backpack with no straps in sight. How did that little backpack stay on?

"Where is that MEDIC?" someone nearby shouted angrily at one of the children, who trembled from the force of the shout.

"Sh-she was banished, my Tallest," the child (with a strange, nasally, adult voice) stammered. "She turned out to be a defective."

Johnny's vision cleared completely, and he saw the scene with seemingly new eyes. Information flooded into him as he looked at them. The green kids weren't kids, but were actually full-grown adults. They were called…Irkens. Weird. They had antennae, which worked like ears, but helped to express their emotions. Their society was based on height, so the one that looked like it was the height of a toddler was probably a lowly servant or something ridiculous like that. His eyes narrowed at the taller figure. That guy had his antennae raised in intimidation while the other, smaller one cowered. Something told Johnny he wouldn't like the taller one, and that was putting it mildly.

The homicidal maniac started to slowly get up from the ground, trying to not be noticed so that he could escape. But he was expecting his feet to feel as heavy as usual due to his usually wearing steel-tipped boots, so he was quite surprised when he suddenly rose up a good five inches, throwing off his balance and causing him to fall to the ground again.

"Fuck!" Johnny swore in anger. The Irken who was tallest (or _the _Tallest, as something in his head told him) whipped his head around at the noise, his red eyes widening in surprise.

"Purple, you're awake!" it exclaimed happily. Johnny looked at him with a quizzical look as Red (his brain told him the name was) shooed away the other Irkens in the room.

"What happened to you?" Red asked after the last one left. "You just…collapsed! Did something happen? Are you okay?"

Johnny tried to stand again, barely managing to keep upright. He did eventually succeed, feeling very stupid that he was floating.

"What the HELL is going on?" Nny shouted as he tried to move somewhere and fell again, cussing loudly. The red eyes of the other Irken widened in shock.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Red inquired. "You're not acting like yourself, Pur. You _never_ curse!"

"Leave…me…alone," Nny growled. He felt something on his head move during his anger, and he started to reach up to find out what it was when he froze in surprise. His arm was dark green, with a big cuff…thing…attached from his wrist almost to his elbow with a wide purple stripe across it. He stared at the two talons poking through the end, and moved his fingers experimentally. The talons clenched and unclenched again. He turned his head around and saw a reflective surface nearby. It showed an Irken similar to Red, only with purple eyes and a lavender outfit with dark purple accents. Was it wearing a skirt? Johnny narrowed his eyes with both anger and confusion. The reflection did the same

"Geez, sorry," Red responded with a scowl. "You ARE acting wacky, though."

Johnny stood up and shot over to Red, yanking him up by the antennae. Red cried out in pain, staring in shock at what looked to him to be his co-leader gone crazy.

"SHUT UP!" Johnny barked. He heard his own voice echo back oddly, sounding like someone with a high-pitched voice was trying to imitate him, doing it poorly. He threw the red-eyed Irken against the wall, hearing the satisfying sound of a body hitting metal. Johnny went over and crouched down in front of him, seeing the absolute terror in those darting red eyes.

"Now, unless you want to be _horribly mutilated_ for even_ thinking_ that word, you are going to explain to me what's going on. Understand?" Nny asked with an evil grin. Strangely, Red seemed to calm down a little with a smirk. Hot, searing pain blasted Johnny in both eyes. He cried out with the unexpected retaliation and fell back. This time, he ended up as the one cornered against a wall while Red towered over him with a laser in both hands.

"Lasers are always useful," Red chuckled, though he still looked very nervous. "Now, since you don't seem to be my purple-eyed friend, and are therefore able to be used for target practice, identify yourself. Who are you, really? And what have you done with Purple?"

The maniac rubbed his eyes, still seeing spots. _'What HAVE you done with me?'_ a voice in his head panicked, sounding very much like the voice of the body he was in. _'Let me go! I don't want to die!'_ He stabbed at it with his own thoughts, and the voice whimpered in response.

"Oh, Purple didn't go anywhere. He's still here, bugging the hell out of me," Johnny chuckled darkly. "If I weren't criminally insane, I probably would be less powerful and would have gone unnoticed." He took a sharp weapon out of what Purple said was a Pak. "Now, I suggest you put that laser down. I'm quite handy with knives, you know."

He stood up and stared the frightened Red down, mentally taking note of the way the other Tallest held the laser defensively. Before he could attack, though, a monitor blinked on nearby.

"My Tallest!" a small Irken gasped. A kid with black hair and glasses, also on the screen, stared at the situation. It looked like Membrane's son, Dib maybe?

"Don't do it, Johnny!" Dib exclaimed. "He's not the enemy...for now!"

"Like HELL he isn't!" Johnny shouted back, pointing to Red with the knife. "He used the word 'wacky'! Of all the words in the fucking dictionary, he used that word! He DESERVES to be skinned alive without mercy!"

Red shuddered, but seemed to realize something. He turned to the monitor and growled at the little Irken Invader.

"This is YOUR fault, ISN'T IT ZIM?" Red snarled. Zim hesitated. "ISN'T IT?"

"It is not Zim's fault!" Zim defended, pointing at the other boy. "It was the Dib! And Gir! Dib-worm meant to send Johnny to me, but Gir sent it to one of you!"

"You _WHAT?_" Johnny yelled at Dib, advancing up to the screen. "I'm here because of _YOU?_"

"It was an accident!" the boy tried to defend himself with.

"Then I'll 'accidently' RIP YOUR THROAT OUT!" the homicidal maniac threatened. _'Ew!'_ the voice in his head commented with a mental gag. _'Can you stop talking about gory stuff? Please?'_

"Shut up!" he hissed to it. That earned an odd look from the other three.

"Who are you talking to?" Dib asked, puzzlement etched across his facial features.

"Just an idiot," Johnny snickered. Red gasped.

"Purple?" Red wondered. _'Ha ha, very funny,'_ the voice sarcastically laughed.

"He sarcastically laughed at us, just so you know," Johnny told Red. He turned back to Dib. "Now, where was I? Oh, that's right. IF YOU DON'T FIX THIS, I'LL RIP YOUR ARMS OUT OF THEIR SOCKETS!"

"What's wrong with you?" Dib scowled.

"Well, let's see…" Johnny said, deciding to humor him. "There's bipolar disorder, depression, schizophrenia, obsessive compulsive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, insomnia, the list goes on."

Dib flinched. "Geez, that's a lot."

"Yep! I'm one sick person, aren't I?" Johnny replied with a smile.

"The Dib worm is getting off topic," Zim pointed out.

Dib nodded. "Yeah, I am. Sorry, it's not every day I get threatened by a crazy person. Oh, that's right. I DO! I DO get death threats every day from YOU, Zim!"

"Only because you DESERVE it, Dib-stick! You threaten ZIM just as often! You started it!" Zim snapped. "Now explain to the Tallest this…situation!"

Dib groaned and turned to the monitor. "Okay, here's how it is. Johnny the Homicidal Maniac was put into a flash drive, and right afterwards, his body escaped."

"Wait, wait, wait," Johnny said, holding up his hands...er, talons. "I escaped _after_ my mind was gone?"

The scythe haired boy nodded, continuing the story. "After your body escaped, an imposter was created to hunt you down. See, nobody except the person who put you in the flash drive knew that your body wasn't technically you. So an imposter is trying to kill what they think is you. I was assigned to find you a body with an electronic brain so that you could help us get rid of the imposter guy. It kind of went wrong, as you can see, since you were supposed to take over Zim. I was typing in codes, he attacked me, and his robot typed in numbers at random. It was accepted, and you woke up in that body."

"Idiot!" Red yelled at Dib. "DON'T MESS WITH IRKEN TECHNOLOGY! It's too unpredictable for the likes of inferior beings like you humans!"

"Shut up!" Johnny hissed at Red. He looked back towards Dib. "What did you say about an imposter?"

"I don't know a lot about it," Dib admitted. "Agent Shadowbeast didn't explain things very thoroughly."

"You must mean Thomas, the guy that worked for your dad. That's the last man I remembered seeing before waiting for escape from that little prison."

"Agent Shadowbeast works for my _dad_?" Dib gasped.

"Yes, yes, fascinating, isn't it?" Johnny said dismissively. "But your dad stole a hair from me. What could be done with that?"

"You're acting...sane," Zim noticed with an inquisitive look. "You are supposed to be CRAZY, from what Zim's sources tell him."

Johnny snickered. "That happens from time to time. It might have something to do with this Pak...thing..." he trailed off, thought process lost.

Dib noticed the look on his face and facepalmed. "Crap. We lost him."

"What do you mean?" Red asked.

"Look at him! Zim was on to something!" Dib snapped. "Johnny isn't acting like himself right now. He should be impatient and annoyed right now, not standing there calmly asking questions!"

"BRAINFREEZY!" Zim shouted at the monitor. "DEVI! SQUEE! WACKY! NAILBUNNY!"

"What are you doing?" the red-eyed leader wondered.

"Using words familiar to the homicidal hyoooman so that he may continue! Dib explained to Zim all about his life before Zim called!" Zim answered. "VILE LINT-INFESTED BASTARD!"

Johnny blinked. "Sorry, I spaced out there for a moment. Where was I?"

"You said that my dad stole a hair from you," Dib reminded. "Knowing my dad, he probably needed it for its DNA. From what I can conclude, the imposter has the possibility of being a clone of you."

"Then get me back to Earth," Johnny growled. "I can't exactly kill him if I'm hundreds of light years away from this gigantic ship, now can I? And I REFUSE to be an Irken. Or a squirrel, or a dog, or anything that doesn't walk around on two legs. I need to be a living, breathing human being, not some cyborg alien piece of crap."

"That leaves only one option," Zim announced. He grinned evilly at Dib and advanced towards him. The young child in the black jacket backed up quickly.

"W-why are you looking at m-me like that?" Dib stammered.

* * *

***blinks* This ended differently than I planned originally. Heh, remember that during this scene, whenever Johnny talks, he sounds like Purple. Now imagine that high-pitched voice saying all those things. Hilarious. XD**


	6. Capture Part 2

**A/N: I know you're wondering what Zim was planning to do to Dib in order to help Johnny *coughDOOMcough*, but you're not going to be seeing the actual scene of it. Instead, you'll see it from J's perspective. Remember him?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the JTHM or Invader Zim characters. Duh.**

* * *

"Hello, this is Reaper's Life Insurance! How may I help you?" J asked pleasantly, leaning back in his leather desk chair.

"Um, like, what's life insurance?" a young female voice asked from the phone.

J smiled a little, glad he was a patient person. He had already gotten this question eight times today. "Life insurance is where a person that you choose gets money if you were to die. But if you live to a specified age, _you_ get the money. Isn't that nice?"

"Like, my boyfriend of a week is on the phone, too. This was, like, his idea. Can you talk to him?" the young voice asked.

"Certainly," J replied. He heard the phone being handed over.

"How much money would I get if she died prematurely?" a low voice politely asked.

"It depends on how much she buys," J repeated patiently, unaware of how suspicious this man sounded. "What package is she going to purchase?"

Before he could get an answer, the phone cut off. All the lights in the building turned off, too, and some of his coworkers were whining about being afraid of the dark because some person or other that they knew died on the streets at night. J looked around in confusion. Lights don't just cut off for no reason. There hadn't been a blackout for years, ever since the power grid of the city had been updated ten years ago. It would take a tremendous amount of power to cause an electricity shortage such as this.

A lightbulb went off in J's head. This had to be the work of Johnny C. His name was practically etched all over it in dripping red letters.

"Mr. Grim?" he called out to his boss in a dark suit.

"What do you want?" his boss growled.

"Could I please return home?" he inquired, jogging over. "I need to...um...do stuff."

"Sure, but your pay is getting docked for this," Mr. Grim warned. J nodded and ran out the building. He jogged up to his house, the lawn just starting to sprout shoots of healthy green grass. The outside was painted a generic beige, and the threatening sign on the door had been removed.

Closing the door behind him, J took a deep breath of contentment. The inside had been renovated just as the outside had. Cheery yellow walls greeted him, the hardwood floors shining with a fresh coat of wax. The cushy leather couch beckoned to him in front of the widescreen HD TV (which he could afford now thanks to his job). The smell of baking sugar cookies wafted through the air from the flickering candle on the fancy dining room table. But he couldn't take the time to enjoy his success at turning this death trap into a home, he had work to do. So he ventured down into the basement. He had done his best to get rid of anything depressing, and had returned the victims to their home with a memory wipe of what had happened. As for the corpses, he had cremated them and released the ashes into the wind. To the unseeing eye, the basement was now an entertainment center, complete with surround sound and an even bigger TV with a Wii sitting in front of a couch built for five. But when J entered a door just off to the side, it revealed an entirely different story.

This was the only room he had left untouched. Knives decorated the wall opposite him, some clean, others with a crusty red substance on it. Polished scythes leaned against the knives, and a box of charged tasers sat in the corner. J walked over and grabbed one, turning it on. Electricity danced across the two spokes, temporarily mesmerizing him before he remembered why he took it out in the first place. He grimaced with distaste and put it in his jacket pocket after turning it off.

"This is why you're here," J reminded himself. "To take down Johnny C."

He strolled out of the house, whistling to himself in an effort to forget the task at hand. He noticed for a moment that Squee had returned home from camp, alive but scared.

"Hi, Todd!" J called out happily, walking over to the little boy. Todd squeaked fearfully at the sound of the voice, but looked confused at J's appearance.

"Mr. Scary Neighbor Man?" Todd wondered, tilting his head to the side. "Is that you?"

"Yep!" J answered with a smile. "But I prefer to be called Nny, remember?"

"Why did you call me Todd?" Todd asked.

"That's your name, silly!" J chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. "Now, I suggest you stay inside today. Unpleasant things may occur here, but after that, there will be no more scary things in this neighborhood. Ever!"

Todd squeaked and ran inside. J smiled and continued on his way, scanning the streets for anything that looked suspicious. There was one teal colored house that looked odd...but a little boy lived there. J shook his head. Surely he wouldn't be the cause, right? He noticed a different little boy stumbling out of the home, holding his scythe-adorned head in pain.

"Good morning!" J called out happily, waving. "And in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!" The little boy paused and glanced up at J, his eyes ringed around with sleepiness and suspicion.

"You should get more sleep you know," J pointed out. "It's healthy and makes you happier that the sun is shining on this beautiful blue and green sphere!"

"Who are you?" the boy growled angrily, stepping close to the man in what looked like an attempt at intimidation. If he were taller, it might have worked. But he was just a shrimpy little thing, barely out of elementary school.

"J, at your service," the man responded with a bow. "And who might you be?"

J cried out in pain as a sharp object was jammed into his right knee. The little boy stood above him, holding a bloodied knife.

"So Dib was right," the youngster snickered, crouching in front of J's face. "Professor Membrane _did_ make a clone. You might not recognize me 'J', but I recognize you. And you're in for a world of pain and suffering for thinking that you could get rid of me so easily, and even having the guts to try to take my place."

"Johnny!" J gasped, trying to scramble backward despite the busted knee. "But how...I mean...you're not..."

"Long story," Johnny snickered. "One that does not end in happily ever after for anyone." The evil smile on that bespectacled young face was the last thing J saw before his world went dark with a stab at his side. But he wasn't dead. That would have been an easy escape for his crimes. No. Johnny had a much more...creative plan in mind for this lookalike.

* * *

"Candy Mountain, Candy Mountain! You fill me with sweet, sugary goodness!" Gir sings, floating in the air.

"What is he doing?" Red asks from the monitor, Purple passed out near him in recovery. Zim facepalmed at the question.

"Gir watches too much of a human video viewing device called 'YouTube', and he has been nonstop quoting from particularly stupid videos," Zim explains with a groan.

"Shun the nonbeliever!" Gir exclaims. A door is heard slamming upstairs. "The Banana King is here!"

"I thought his name was Johnny..." Red questioned with a quizzical look aimed at the robot.

"GIR! No more quoting Charlie the Unicorn videos!" Zim demands as Johnny appears, dragging in a bloody J.

"Quit being such an apple!" Gir scolds. Then he giggles and tackles Johnny. "BRING ME TO YOUR BEIBER!"

"AGH! Knock it off!" Johnny shouts, trying to shove the robot off of him. Gir complies and sits on J instead.

"We're on a bridge, Charlie!" Gir exclaims. "Hey! Hey Tallest! Tallest! Hey! Hey!" Gir calls out to Red. Red's antennae twitches in anger.

"What is it now?" he growls.

"Why are you so red with anger?" Gir asks, doing the trademark Annoying Orange laugh.

"SHUT UP!" Red, Zim, and Johnny shriek at Gir simultaneously.

* * *

**I thought I should end it on a funny note. XD Am I the only one that can see Gir quoting Charlie the Unicorn or Annoying Orange videos?**


	7. Perspectives

**A/N: You know how Johnny sometimes goes into a little psychological rant right before murdering someone? Imagine two Johnnys, one his normal self, the other with a different pyschological perspective on life. And then a deep debate about life ensues. Can you tell I'm taking psychology class currently? XD It might be a bit confusing, sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I spend all of my money on Cherry Brainfreezies (which is what I specifically order at theatres now, and they still know what I mean, but give me a weird look when I say it). I can't AFFORD to own either Invader Zim or JTHM. If I did bribe Jhonen Vasqez with lots of money, I wouldn't force him to write new JTHM books, but I would make him and a team of animators at least animate the unfinished episodes, the script for The Trial, and do the big Invader Zim TV movie.**

**Um...enough daydreaming. Here's the chapter.**

* * *

"...what?" J mumbled, opening his bleary eyes. "Where...where am I?"

"Just another room in the world," a voice answered. J blinked. The voice itself wasn't familiar, but the speech patterns and tone of voice was. His suspicions were confirmed when a knife flew by his head, embedding itself in the wall. "Shit, Dib has bad aim."

"Johnny, I know you may be a little...irritated with me for trying to hunt you down, kill you, and take your place," J commented. A kid with scythe hair and insomnia-lined eyes strolled up to him, laughing harshly.

"Understatement of the century," Johnny grimly chuckled, the utter loathing and maturity sounding strange matched with such a young-looking boy. "You tried to steal from me the one thing I have left in this god-forsaken world. My identity. And now, only now when you know you've lost, you apologize? I would think that someone with my DNA would put up more of a fight."

"Maybe I would have, in a one-on-one battle and knew who you were," J calmly replied. "But I am not as easy to provoke into a fight. You know why? _I_ don't have voices in my head. _I_ don't have any behavioral disorders. Johnny, I'm just trying to provide you the escape you always craved, an escape from your everyday torture that's self-inflicted."

"YOU JUST SHUT UP!" Johnny snarled, glaring venomously at the clone. "You arrogant, sickeningly sensitive BASTARD! I'll die when I choose to, not when YOU or anybody else chooses! People like you will NEVER understand what I've had to live through on a daily basis!"

"Touchy, touchy," J responded. "For once, Johnny, you've captured someone who HAS been through everything you have. I have your memories, keep in mind. So you can't play that card of 'You don't understand', like you do so often. But it's how you decide to react to things that determines the mood you're feeling. I've decided to be patient, calm, and sane. I'm _happy_, Johnny. If you kill me, you'll just be proving my hypothesis that you hate anything that represents a chance with sanity."

"Such a humanist approach," Johnny scoffed. "You believe that humans are, generally, good overall. That no one is inherently evil, and if evil actions were to consistently occur, that there's always an outside reason. Idiot."

"And you think more on both a behavioral approach," J noticed. "You think people are products of learning, controlled by experiences, responses, consequences, and rewards. Maybe you have even a hint of a psychoanalytic outlook, with unconscious conflicts stemming from childhood that causes you to have an agressive drive. Even if we don't remember our childhood, things must have happened, right? An unknown childhood, such an easy target to blame for your behavior. 'Don't blame me, blame my upbringing'. Just take my offer of escape, Johnny. I'll make sure you feel no pain."

"Enough talk!" Johnny shouted, stepping close with a knife glinting in each hand. "It's time to take action."

"Go ahead," J invited. "I promise to say hi to Edgar for you when I get to heaven."

Johnny flinched a bit at the name, stopping in his tracks. J noticed this and shook his head sympathetically.

"Yes, he is the one you actually regret murdering," J sighed. "Poor Edgar. He really didn't deserve it, seeing as he was a decent human being who hadn't provoked you in any way whatsoever. But the wall just _had_ to be fed, didn't it, so the thing wouldn't escape?"

"SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!" the homicidal maniac shrieked angrily. He raised his knives in the air and stepped close to J. "If you AT ALL value your life, I suggest you stop TALKING. I know every one of your less obvious weak points, since they are technically my own."

"Do what you have to do. I'll pray for your soul," J promised, further provoking his captor. Right as J was about to meet his end, though, a voice started speaking from the ceiling.

"Johnny, Zim just found out where your body might be," a bored voice announced. "If you're about done acting out of character, I suggest that you leave J here and go see what the 'Invader' found out."

"This is the WORST possible timing, Computer!" Johnny protested as J sighed in relief. The maniac in Dib's body scowled and plunged a butcher knife deeply into the clone's leg, being rewarded with a screech of pain. Johnny nodded, satisfied, before heading up the stairs.

J panted, grimacing in pain. A robotic arm descended down from the ceiling and sprayed his wound, ceasing the bleeding.

"Johnny wouldn't want you to die from bleeding to death. It wouldn't give him any satisfaction," Computer explained. "This won't ease the pain, just so you know. You'll still feel like you're going to die, but you won't yet. Before Johnny gets his body back, though, I suggest you convince Gir to let you escape. Otherwise you'll undergo a tortre unknown to any human being, even unknown to his past victims."

"There's something I don't understand," J said. "Johnny and I are of the same DNA, and yet our minds are so different. If we're the same person, with the same memories, why is he so gloomy and pessimistic while I'm content and optimistic?"

"That's kind of complicated," Computer started to explain. "See, the first flaw is saying that you two are the same person. You're not, despite what DNA tests say. It depends on how one defines a person. What constitutes you as yourself? Your body? Your personality? Your beliefs? Your memories? It's hard to say. Johnny is the way he is for his own reasons. And even though you share his memories, you choose to live your life a different way."

"But Professor Membrane claimed that he was the one to recreate my brain. If he hadn't altered it, would I be exactly like Johnny?"

"I doubt it. Hell, you could even have chosen to be exactly like him, despite the alterations Membrane made. It's all subjective, a bunch of 'what if' questions that one asks themselves that all adds up to nothing. You are the way you are for multiple reasons. The whole 'Nature versus Nurture' debate, basically. Freud would have a field day if he could study you two."

"I see."

"I have to go," Computer said suddenly. "Zim is requesting my presence. Contemplate what I said to your heart's content, or don't. I don't really care." With that, the robot arm retracted into the ceiling, leaving J alone with his thoughts.

* * *

"This better be good," Johnny growled at the Irken, stepping into the room.

"Zim ASSURES you, Nny-human, it is quite important," Zim stated. "After you dragged J into the basement, the other Almighty Tallest had awoken, confused yet unharmed, so they cut the transmission. Gir turned on the TV, and we saw something...interesting."

"What was it?" Nny grumbled, intrigued despite his annoyance.

"There's this new..._horrible_...hyooman band named 'Reiterate'. They sing and perform songs already in existance, lacking creativity in their brainmeats."

"So what? I'll mutilate them with salad tongs, then they'll be wiped off the map of society."

"Their existance is NOT the issue, Nny-maniac. It is their lead singer that twisted Zim's guts into a horrible knot," Zim explained with a grimace. "Explain, Johnny. What did YOU first do when your memories ceased to exist?"

Johnny snickered. "You think I would remember that far back? But if I had to guess, I would say that I was listened to the voices around me telling me to kill others, kill myself, rediscover myself, feed the wall with blood, things like that."

"So the things around you manipulated the path your life took, yes?"

"Manipulated? HAH! I CHOSE to follow their advice, you piece of alien shit!"

Zim started to speak, but Gir interrupted with a squeal. "DA BAND IS ON SOON! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! IF I DON'T WATCH THEM, I'LL EXPLODE!"

"Computer!" Zim called out. After a brief moment, a monitor descended from the ceiling.

"Yes?" it sighed.

"Turn the TV on to the EMTEEVEE channel, quickly!" Zim commanded.

"Yes, master," Computer responded, heavy sarcasm emphasizing the word 'master'. The TV flickered on, and a blonde girl with far too much make-up on squealed happily in front of a cheering mass crowding to the front of the stage.

"Welcome back, MTV fans!" the girl exclaimed with cheerleader enthusiasm, making Johnny's eye twitch with annoyance. "We're here with the fresh new band 'Reiterate'! Isn't that neat? We just heard their first copyrighted song, 'This is Halloween', and it was awesome! I could just listen to that lead singer all day, he's so hot! Because hotness decides whether or not someone's a good singer. Am I right fans? He's so cool, he doesn't even have a name!" The crowd of fangirls screamed happily in response.

"She needs to die," Johnny growled. Gir shushed him and turned back to the TV, smiling.

"And now it's time for their next copied song!" the host squealed. "The demo version of the song 'Oogie Boogie', which was originally sung by Danny Elfman! Are you ready for this?"

"No," Johnny replied, as the crowd on TV screamed again. The camera zoomed in on the stage, and several people bringing out unusual intruments appeared. A particularly tall one caught Johnny's eyes, and he stared at the figure when it walked up to the microphone and cleared its throat. It remained a sillhouette, as did all of the other band members. This seemed intentional, to set the mood. So though the homicidal maniac couldn't see the singer's facial features, his suspicions continued to grow. The rest of the band started up the intro music and the figure tapped his foot against the stage floor, seeming to wait for his cue. It eventually came, and a creepy smile appeared on the shadow as it began to sing the song.

"Well well well, what have we here?" the unnamed person sang, very Elfman-like. Johnny choked a bit, recognizing his own voice creepily singing the 'Nightmare Before Christmas' song.

"Sandy Claws huh?  
Oh, I'm really scared!  
So you're the one everybody's talkin' about, ha, ha, ha!

You're jokin', you're jokin'  
I can't believe my eyes!  
You're jokin' me, you _gotta_ be,  
This can't be the right guy!  
He's _ancient_, he's _ugly_,  
I don't know which is worse!  
I might just split a seam now  
If I don't die laughing first.

When Mr. Oogie Boogie says  
There's trouble close at hand,  
You'd better pay attention now  
'Cause I'm the Boogie Man.  
And if you aren't shakin'  
Then there's something very wrong,  
'Cause this may be the last time you hear the Boogie Song," Unnamed snickered. "Ohhh..."

"Ohhh!" his band answered.

"Ohhh..."

"Ohhh!"

"Ohhh..."

"Ohhh, he's the Oogie Boogie Man!" his band exclaimed.

"Well if I'm feelin' antsy  
And there's nothin' much to do,  
I might just cook a special batch  
Of snake and spider stew.  
And don't ya know one thing  
That would make it so nice?  
A roly-poly Sandy Claws to add a little spice!" Unnamed chuckled. Johnny had heard enough and turned off the TV, glaring at it.

"He's tainting my very name..." he hissed.

"But he don't gots a name!" Gir protested.

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!" Johnny shouted at the robot. "Anybody who KNOWS me, like Devi and Squee, are going to see that! Nobody is going to take me seriously!"

"Zim thought you didn't care what others thought..." the Irken started to say right before Johnny jumped behind him and harshly ripped off the Pak.

"I learned from both Purple and Dib how important a Pak is to an alien," the maniac calmly stated with a wicked grin. "You'll die in ten minutes unless you do EXACTLY what I say, understand, you egotistical Irken?"

"Oh, you'll pay for this!" Zim threatened, trying to reach for it.

"Doubtful," Computer commented with a snicker.

"Stay out of this, Mr. Scolex!" Johnny demanded. He turned back to the alien. "Now I'm going to ask this, one more time. Do...you...understand?" Zim bobbed his head. "Good, now listen very, very carefully."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the second author's note, I just have to say this. I got the idea for Nny's body singing the Oogie Boogie song from the YouTube video 'NNY's Oogie Boogie Song', which shows JTHM pics to the demo version of Danny Elfman singing the Oogie Boogie song. The next chapter will be from Unnamed's perspective, a flashback of sorts on how he got to the postion that he's in right now.**


	8. Reiterate

**Author's Note: Just a reminder, this is part one of a two-part flashback about how Unnamed got to be where he is currently. So this first takes place a few minutes after he escaped the lab of Thomas and Professor Membrane. Keep in mind that Unnamed still has a good amount of Johnny's personality, he just has no memories, and his personality may slowly change according to the events that happen to him. **

**Yeesh, this is my longest chapter yet, and I had WAY too much fun writing it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything, stop rubbing it in! Except for Sam. I own her. And her friends Chase, Kevin, Derek, and Joey, all of which are based on real friends of mine.**

* * *

The body of Johnny C. wandered aimlessly down the street, studying the passing street signs. He hoped that maybe they would jog his memory, reveal to him his location so that he can have one of those 'AHA!" moments, remember everything, and continue on his way. He did have knowledge, like strangely, he knew that he could speak simple French if he wanted to. And he knew several things about how the human race works and how horrible it is, but he doesn't know how he came to know these things in the first place. Quite irritating. Especially since even his own name was lost, the very marking that defines one in society. So he called himself Unnamed until he could think of something better, or until he remembered.

"Hey, you!" a far-off voice called out. Unnamed's eyes darted up to the waving figure, but looked away again. Maybe if he ignored the man, he would go away. He seemed...annoying. But the man persisted in his pursuit and boldly jogged up to Unnamed, despite the death glare he was recieving.

"Remember me?" the ugly man with dark hair grinned.

"No, so go away," Unnamed growled, pushing him aside.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I bugged you last time!" the guy matched his pace with Unnamed effortlessly. In fact, the man even went so far as to mimic the way Unnamed was walking.

"You're bugging me _now_," he snapped. "So fuck off, whoever you are."

"Aww, don't ya remember me?" the man said in a teasing, and somewhat sickeningly flirty, tone. "It's me, Jimmy! Remember, your number one fan? Senior Diablo reincarnated me too! Neat, huh?"

"You know that feeling you get?" Unnamed answered, seeming to change topic. "That feeling you get when you meet something so hideously against the very laws of nature, like a five-eyed frog, and it makes you want to kill the thing out of mercy for the people around it and even go so far as to crush that thing beneath a steel-toed boot? That's what I'm feeling right now, and I spy broken glass nearby from a hobo's nightly game of throwing their empty beer bottles against the wall. So get your ass out of here before I act on that feeling!"

Jimmy laughed. "HAH! That's a new one! You're really cool, aren't ya?" Jimmy walked even closer to Unnamed, a sly look on his face. Their shoulders made contact and Unnamed cringed away, shuddering.

"GET AWAY!" Unnamed yelled.

"Aw, don't be like that!" Jimmy seemed to purr, causing Unnamed to feel quite ill. Jimmy stepped closer. "If you meant that, you would have killed me already. I've been to Hell and back, but nothing compares to seeing you, right here, right now. I like what I see." Unnamed gagged at the comment and backed away, accidentally crushing the sliver of glass that he had planned to use in self-defense.

"Leave him alone, you little freak!" a girl shouted, stepping in between Jimmy and Unnamed.

"And what are you gonna do if I don't, baby?" Jimmy snickered. The brunette's eyes flashed and Unnamed watched in intrigue as she went off on this Jimmy person, slashing at him with her dark purple nails and pulling at his hair, even kicking him where no man wants to be kicked.

"I'll say this only once more," the girl hissed, standing over the falling, whimpering man. "Leave. Him. Alone." Jimmy nodded fearfully and crawled away. She turned to Unnamed and wiped the blood off of her nails using her black, paint-spattered sweatshirt, looking up at him with a smirk. "Freaks, what are you gonna do? Am I right?"

"...sure, what you said," Unnamed responded. "Though I could have handled him on my own, you know."

"Yeah, I know. You have that look about you that says you don't take crap from anyone," she said. She stuck out her hand. "By the way, my name is Sam." Unnamed noticed with amusement how short she was, despite her ferocity. She seemed to be about 20, and yet she looked to be about 5 foot 2, at the most. He was more than at least a foot and a half taller than her. After a moment, Unnamed eventually shook her hand, but pulled it away quickly.

"I would tell you my name, but even I don't know it," he admitted. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Is that right?" she asked. "That's kind of weird, no offense."

"Non taken. At least you didn't use an idiotic word like 'wacky'. So, even though you know I could handle the situation, why did you help out?"

"To be honest, I didn't exactly do it for noble reasons," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "My boyfriend and his buddies are putting together this band, and they want a lead singer. None of them have the right look or voice for it, and since they're a bunch of college boys, I'm the only one responsible enough to be manager."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"You see, I saw you even before the Jimmy incident. Your look for our band is absolutely perfect, and when I heard you speak, I knew your voice would be able to handle anything from raw screaming to gentle tones, depending on the song we copy. You even have that seriousness that this band needs to get more prepared for our next upcoming gig. I was going to work up the courage to convince you to join us, but then I saw that guy annoy you, and inspiration hit me. If I beat that guy up, the idiotic male pride every guy has would make you owe me big time. You'll pay me back by being our lead singer." The way she put it left little room to argue, and she looked like she was willing to pester him until the end of time and avoid dying simultaneously. Maybe if he crushed her dream of going far with the band, she would leave disheartened.

"You realize that most bands formed by teenagers don't last long, right? That it all tends to spiral downward due to lack of interest and sometimes the work of damaging chemicals, even if I'm there to stop you all from getting to that point?"

"So you'll do it?" Sam squealed happily, apparently unaware of hs attempts. "Great!" She started pulling on his arm, and she was quite strong for such a small, petite girl.

"Wait, I didn't say that!" Unnamed protested, trying to pry apart Sam's fingers. She ignored him and started to babble on.

"See, our band is all about taking songs already in existance and making them even better!" she exclaimed. "We call ourselves 'Reiterate'. We each play a bunch of instruments, and the guys should be happy to see I've done my job! First there's my boyfriend Joey, he's able to play both the electric and acoustic guitar. Derek and Kevin are the lazy ones of the group, but when they're forced to, they can be quite creative. Derek can play the bass guitar, while Kevin can play the drums! I play keyboards, while Chase..."

"AGH! Make it stop!" Unnamed exclaimed, still trying to free himself from the girl's grasp. She pulled him to a building and shoved him inside, making him fall flat on his face. He hissed while getting up, already mentally vowing revenge on her. He glanced up and noticed the boys that haven't yet realized they've arrived. Two red-haired boys in blue and orange sweatshirts were moving around in front of a screen, staring at the flashing television as they competed in the Wii game Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games. The one in the blue sweatshirt laughed in the other's face when he won, but was just challenged to a rematch. A person with black hair strummed his guitar absentmindedly, deep in thought about unknown things. That guy looked up and noticed Sam, smiling gently.

"Hey, Sam," the man greeted, strolling over to Sam and hugging her.

"Hi, Joey," she whispered back, snuggling into her boyfriend. The duo playing the video games paused it, looked at Sam and Joey, then at each other. They smiled deviously and began belting out the chorus of a well-known Disney song together.

"Sha la la la la la  
My oh my  
Look like the boy too shy  
Ain't gonna kiss the girl  
Sha la la la la la  
Ain't that sad?  
Ain't it a shame?  
Too bad, he gonna miss the girl!"

"Shut up!" Sam yelled, grabbing a nearby Frosty Peanut Brainfreezy and chucking it at them. They ducked and it splatted against the wall behind them, sludge oozing down.

"Don't take it out on my Brainfreezy! It's innocent until proven guilty!" Joey whined. At this moment, a man with sandy brown hair wandered into a room and froze at the sight of the mess.

"NOT COOL, guys!" he shouted, trying to clean it up with a nearby T-shirt. "If my brother found out you guys were throwing slushies at each other, he'd freak! He's already stressed enough with his job!"

"Yeah, we get it, Chase. We're SO priveleged he lets us crash here in the first place, we should be thankful, blah blah blah," Sam sighed. She smiled. "But we won't be bothering him forever! Right, Derek?"

The one in the orange sweatshirt nodded. "Yep! We got _connections_ now!"

"MTV, here we come!" the other one, presumably Kevin, cheered. He stopped cheering when he noticed Unnamed just standing there. "Hey, who are you?"

"I drafted him into the band!" Sam announced before Unnamed could speak. She stood on a chair to get everyone's attention, though Unnamed noticed with a smirk that even with her added height, she was still one of the shortest ones in the room. "Okay, everyone listen up! That means you, too, Chase!"

"Here's your T-shirt back," Chase snickered, throwing the shirt at Derek. Derek just growled at the stain and threw it onto the couch. "Okay, Sam, let's hear your big announcement."

"This guy," Sam pointed to Unnamed. "Is our lead singer because the rest of you couldn't sing if your lives were on the line! You all suck at singing, understand? Yeah, I'm looking at you two, Derek and Kevin!"

"Alas, you have pierced mine soul with your cruel, stabby arrows disguised as mere verbal patterns!" Kevin gasped dramatically, clutching at his heart and falling to the floor, going into fake death spasms. Derek chuckled and pulled Kevin to a standing position again. Sam raised an eyebrow at them, but quickly refocused on her speech.

"So, whether or not he wants to participate isn't the issue, since he owes me for a favor I did him," Sam finished up.

"What's your name?" Chase asked.

"I don't remember, everybody stop asking me!" Unnamed yelled. Everyone in the room paused and stared at him, receiving a scowl in turn.

"Anger issues?" Joey asked Sam in a whisper. Sam shushed him, but nodded.

"Just call me Unnamed," Unnamed growled, stalking over to the couch and shoving the T-shirt aside. "Don't piss me off." He sat in the exact middle of the couch and switched the TV input so he could watch normal TV.

After a pause, and another conspiratorial glance, Derek wandered over and sat on Unnamed's right side while Kevin sat on his left. They didn't say anything, just stared at the TV, but they kept shifting positions, scooting closer and closer to the easily provoked man until their shoulders were touching. Kevin cried out randomly at one point and fell back.

"He jabbed me with a Sharpie!" Kevin gasped, looking down the front of his sky blue sweatshirt with shock at the black, inky spot right where his heart lay.

"Strange..." Unnamed muttered, looking down at the marker in his hands. "I assumed that the name implied it would be sharp."

Derek laughed hysterically at the scene. "Neat! I like this guy's style!"

"But can he sing is the question," Joey pointed out. He grabbed a music sheet nearby, scanned it, and handed it to Unnamed. "Sing the first few lines in key so we can determine your range."

Unnamed quirked an eyebrow at the title and lyrics. "I refuse to sing 'My Favorite Things'."

"Too bad, that's the first music sheet I came across, and it's perfect," Joey retorted. "Now unless you want to pay Sam back in some other, more horrible way, I suggest you start singing."

"At LEAST let me put in my own lyrics." Unnamed growled.

Joey nodded. "Fine, okay. Just keep to the rhythm."

Unnamed cleared his throat and began.

"Dew drops on black roses and nails in kittens  
Bright metal weapons and blood-sodden mittens  
Suspicious brown packages tied up with strings  
These are a few of my favorite things

Dark shifting shadows and demon-dog poodles  
Doorbells so screamy and Skettio noodles  
Ravens that fly with the stars on their wings  
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in black dresses with red satin sashes  
Snowflakes that almost look just like gray ashes  
Silver white splinters glued onto a spring  
These are a few of my favorite things

When the cold bites  
When the knife stings  
When I'm feeling sad  
I simply remember my favorite things  
And then I don't feel so bad!"

Joey blinked in suprise. "Um, wow. Dude, now I'm depressed. Yet impressed at the same time with your creepy singing voice." He shook his head and walked away. "You're in. To decide otherwise would just be bias and stupid."

Sam clapped her hands. "Okay, guys! Now that we've got our depressing new singer, we've got to rest for tomorrow. So everybody go...wherever it is you go to when you sleep!"

"Except you," Kevin giggled, pointing at Sam. She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, let's all make fun of the one with insomnia." Kevin and Derek snickered and left the room, along with Joey who was still shaking his head from the song. Chase left a few seconds afterwards, mumbling some kind of warning about not throwing Brainfreezies around everywhere. Sam yawned and turned on her laptop while Unnamed just lay back on the couch, watching TV. After a few moments, Sam glanced over at Unnamed.

"Aren't you going to go to bed with the rest of them?"

Unnamed shook his head. "No, sleep is detestable. I've got better things to do."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

Sam grabbed a cup of coffee and sipped it, typing away at her keyboard. At one point, Sam threw two sheets of paper at Unnamed.

"What are these?" he asked, scanning them.

"They're the songs we're doing tomorrow," Sam grumbled. "I didn't get a vote in the choosing, so they chose the songs 'This is Halloween' and 'Oogie Boogie Song'. Have you heard of them?"

Unnamed pondered this. "No. I mean, I might have at one point, but I'm not sure."

"Then here." Sam threw an old, first generation iPod shuffle at Unnamed. "The songs are on there, along with some classical music. There is also some shitty songs like 'Hollaback Girl' and the like, which Derek snuck on there while I wasn't looking. Just ignore those and focus on the two songs you're singing. Try to memorize them."

"Sure...okay..." Unnamed mumbled, putting the earbuds in his ears. The clock near Sam chimed three times and she laughed bitterly.

"To another 3 am for insomniacs," she announced, holding up her cup of coffee. Unnamed held up the empty Brainfreezy cup nonchalantly right before Sam guzzled down the coffee. He threw it into the trash can nearby and pressed play on the iPod.

And so the two insomniacs worked, one on the Internet to try to plan out the next day's events for her band.

The other simply rolled the two songs over in his mind when they came on, wondering why he actually felt...content for what he felt like was the first time in a long, long time.

* * *

**Part one is over! Part two coming up in the next chapter!**


	9. Reiterate Part 2

***insert excuse/explanation/apology for being late here***

***insert stereotypical disclaimer about owning nothing besides for fan-made characters here***

* * *

Sam opened her bleary eyes, blinking in confusion. Had she been sleeping? Crap, that's the _last_ thing she needs right now, losing to her own desire. Maybe trying to stay awake for weeks at a time wasn't such a good thing for her mental health in the first place, nor was it in any way productive in the long run. But hey, that doesn't mean she won't try again.

She lifted her head up from the keyboard and noticed a tall figure leaning against the wall, completely under the spell of her shitty iPod. Who was he again? Sam narrowed her eyes in thought until a figurative lightbulb went off. Of course. It was that one guy, Unnamed, the one who she had forced to join the band just because she kicked some creepy guy's ass for him. There were dark rings under his eyes, but he didn't seem that tired. Had he been up all night? As if he could tell what she was thinking, Unnamed looked up from the electronic music device and pulled the earbuds out.

"I thought you didn't sleep," he commented.

"It was a mistake that won't happen again," she grumbled, getting up and stretching. She paused and noticed that his shirt and black jacket was covered in red goopy stuff. "And what on Earth were you _doing _last night?"

"It's Skettios, I swear!" Unnamed answered quickly. "See, after you fell asleep at around 5 am, I wandered into the kitchen to see if I could cook something to eat. I saw some Skettios, but I forgot to get it out of the can first, and it kind of…exploded. Then the microwave caught on fire!"

"Of course it did," Sam sighed. "And tell me, why didn't anybody wake up to the large explosion or to the sound of you using a fire extinguisher to put it out?"

Unnamed shrugged. "I don't know. Guess human beings are just oblivious like that. But I _did_ manage to clean it up, if that's any consolation. You guys need to purchase a new microwave, though."

"Just make sure that Chase doesn't know, or he'll kick us out," Sam warned. She stood back and studied Unnamed. "Okay, before we wake everyone else up, I suggest you clean up yourself a bit. Try to get those red stains out of your shirt."

Unnamed nodded. "Sure, okay." He strolled off into the laundry room that had a big sink, a bottle of dish liquid in his hands. Apparently, this was one of the things he _did_ remember how to do.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DAMN MICROWAVE?" a voice angrily yelled from the kitchen. Sam laughed softly to herself. Looks like Chase was awake, and noticed whatever remained of the desired kitchen appliance. She poked her head in and saw him still freaking out over the scene.

"Relax," she tried to tell him. "We'll just get a new one right after MTV today."

"What happened to it?" he eventually asked when he calmed down with a few deep breaths.

"Skettios plus a forgetful Unnamed equals the death of at least one kitchen appliance," Sam snickered. Chase just grumbled to himself as he stalked to the coffee machine, apparently in no mood for a simple equation such as that. Even Joey, emerging zombie-like from his room, felt nothing but morning crankiness and a total lack of humor. Sam shrugged and went upstairs to wake up the red-headed brothers.

She made a quick stop at the bathroom and filled a bucket with ice cold water before finally entering their room. One was snoring on a battered old couch while the other was actually sleeping in his bed. Sam furrowed her brow in thought, and eventually decided that her prank would only work on one of them, so she had to involve the other in it as well.

"Hey, Kevin," she whispered, shaking the shoulder of the boy on the couch. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, but quickly became more awake when he saw the bucket. Instinctively, he seemed to know the plan. They both crept up to the other brother, who was still obliviously residing in his dreams. Sam smiled once more before emptying the entire bucket on Derek.

"AGH!" Derek screamed. He jumped up from the bed and fell flat on his face to the sound of Sam and Kevin's laughter. He mock laughed as he got up. "Ha ha, very funny, guys. But you do realize, Sam, that this means you'll need to take part in my daily prank call."

Sam sighed. "Do I HAVE to?"

"It's only fair."

"Fine, whatever," Sam relented. "Which script are we doing, and who are we calling? It has to be short, since we're leaving soon for the concert."

Derek ruminated over this as he put on a new shirt. "Well, we haven't tried out the Death Insurance one yet to the nearby insurance company. How about that one?"

"Is that the one with the avocado and the ketchup, or without?"

"Without."

"Sure, I'll start the call," she responded, picking up her cell phone and dialing in the number.

"Hello, this is Reaper's Life Insurance! How may I help you?" a voice asked pleasantly. Sam and Derek raised their eyebrows at how much the guy sounded like Unnamed, but quickly shrugged it off and got into character.

"Um, like, what's life insurance?" Sam asked with a valley girl accent. She elbowed Kevin hard in the gut when he started giggling a little too loudly for her taste.

"Life insurance is where a person that you choose gets money if you were to die. But if you live to a specified age, _you_ get the money. Isn't that nice?" the man said patiently. Derek waited eagerly nearby for his upcoming cue as the fake, suspicious boyfriend.

"Like, my boyfriend of a week is on the phone, too. This was, like, his idea. Can you talk to him?" Sam inquired. The voice replied with a "Certainly" and she handed the phone over to Derek.

"How much money would I get if she died prematurely?" Derek asked in a low voice. This was the part where the voice was supposed to stammer and get really scared, they would reveal the joke, and everyone would laugh it off. But instead he actually got an answer.

"It depends on how much she buys. Which package is she going to purchase?"

Sam and he stared at the phone in surprise, trying to come up with a response, one that still fit the theme of the message. Before they could, however, the room plunged into darkness.

"Holy crap!" Kevin gasped. "That was freaky!"

"SHIT!" Unnamed shouted from down the hall. Sam and the brothers hurried down to the laundry room and found a shirtless Unnamed swearing profusely.

"Dude, chill," Derek sighed. "Is it really that big of a deal?"

Unnamed's eye twitched. "Perhaps not to you, but to me, it is quite the problem. I had just thrown my shirt in the dryer, and now it won't be dry before we leave! See?" He pulled the soaking shirt out of the dryer and held it up. It was indeed too wet to be dried with a blowdryer or anything of the like.

"Okay, am I hallucinating, or did that logo just change?" Joey wondered, having discovered the scene and now pointing at the shirt accusingly.

Sam narrowed her eyes and stared at the shirt. Sure enough, it changed once again when she blinked, shifting from the phrase "All Washed Up" to "Become the Moose!". She took a step back in shock.

"Joey's right! Normal shirts don't do that!" Sam agreed. Unnamed seemed to not notice the comments and was opening up an electricity panel nearby. He fiddled with it for a few moments and, with a flip of a switch, the lights all came back on. Unnamed ignored the gawking of his band members and threw the shirt back into the dryer.

Nothing much happened after that, though Sam noticed something odd as the morning progressed. It seemed that strange things happened when Unnamed was around, whether he meant to cause it or not. Something freaky was going on, that was for sure. Something…not right. After all, he tried to stab someone with a Sharpie, he made the microwave explode while cooking Skettios, and she knew that he was somehow related to the blackout. Call it a hunch. Call it crazy superstition. She was guilty of both in the past.

Sam didn't let these emotions show, though, when they finally arrived at the concert. She acted like her typical self, joking with the brothers, hugging and kissing Joey, and making fun of Chase for being so worried.

"Are you ready for this?" the MTV host squealed after exclaiming over their previous song, Halloween. The crowd cheered and Sam turned down the lights so only their silhouettes were shown and not their faces. This suited Unnamed quite well, and though he looked greatly annoyed by the fangirls and their extremely highpitched, nails on a chalkboard wails, he looked somewhat content being in the dark. Sam started up the instrumental intro and Unnamed began.

"Well well well, what have we here?

Santy Claws, huh?  
Oh, I'm really scared!  
So you're the one everybody's talkin' about, ha, ha, ha!

You're jokin', you're jokin'  
I can't believe my eyes!  
You're jokin' me, you _gotta_ be,  
This can't be the right guy!  
He's _ancient_, he's _ugly_,  
I don't know which is worse!  
I might just split a seam now  
If I don't die laughing first.

When Mr. Oogie Boogie says  
There's trouble close at hand,  
You'd better pay attention now  
'Cause I'm the Boogie Man.  
And if you aren't shakin'  
Then there's something very wrong,  
'Cause this may be the last time you hear the Boogie Song," Unnamed snickered. Sam smiled, too, because she loved this part of the song. "Ohhh..."

"Ohhh!" the band answered.

"Ohhh..."

"Ohhh!"

"Ohhh..."

"Ohhh, he's the Oogie Boogie Man!" the band exclaimed.

"Well if I'm feelin' antsy  
And there's nothin' much to do,  
I might just cook a special batch  
Of snake and spider stew.  
And don't ya know one thing  
That would make it so nice?  
A roly-poly Sandy Claws to add a little spice!" Unnamed chuckled.

"Ohhh…"

"Oh, yeah!"

"Ohhh…" the band responded with.

"Ohhh!"

"Ohhh…"

And then the whole band, including Unnamed, sang together. "Oh, yeah, I'm (he's) the Oogie Boogie Man!"

Unnamed started to feel more in his element when Joey cut in with an insanely deep voice, imitating a frightened Santa Claus. Oogie Boogie sang about preparing to kill him while Santa pleaded with him to stop and reconsider. He fell into the role of 'giddy and possibly insane capturer' so deeply that when the song ended, he had to literally snap himself out of it. He was here, with his new friends, waving to the cheering crowd. Not alone torturing someone who doesn't deserve it. It made him feel uneasy that he nearly lost himself in the role. He couldn't be like that. He wouldn't. He REFUSED to.

And Unnamed had the strange sensation that someone, someone important, was watching his every move during the first half of the song. But it was hard to tell. There had been so many people in the crowd and so many cameras that it could've been anyone. Or he was just being paranoid. Yeah, that was probably it.

"Dude, that ROCKED!" Kevin cheered enthusiastically to Unnamed. Derek and Joey were devouring the snacks backstage, and Sam and Chase were talking to several agents to determine who to sign with. What Unnamed was unaware of at first was that all of this had been preplanned months ahead of times. They had actually had many gigs before this one and were building themselves up. There was one thing he didn't know, though.

"Yeah, I suppose you could put it that way," Unnamed told Kevin distractedly before coming straight to the point. "I need to ask you something."

"You're not coming out of the closet, are you?" Kevin gasped. "WHY do people always come out to ME?"

"What? No! What I wanted to know was who the original singer for this band was."

"Thank God! And that's an easy one, it was Sam. Man, she belted out notes like it was no one's business. A true rock n' roll babe."

Unnamed raised an eyebrow. "Why isn't she still the singer?"

Kevin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Because someone critiqued her so harshly that she swore off singing. Some sexist bastard of a critic proclaimed that her notes sounded like they belonged in Hell to someone being tortured, and that the only way we'd get anywhere was by having a guy be the singer. She believed him. To hear Sam sing, even a note or two, shows how happy she really is. Then she found you, and lucky she did, or else the whole thing would have been a giant flop."

Unnamed nodded curtly, thankful for the information, but was distracted by the sound of something in the ceiling.

"You hear that?" he asked Kevin. The thumping and skittering noises paused just as Kevin listened for them.

"Nope," Kevin responded before walking away. Unnamed stood still for a moment and listened as the sounds resumed, this time leading away before fading completely.

"That was odd," Unnamed murmured to himself.


	10. Annoying Help

**Author's Note: Heh, I liked writing this chapter more than I thought I would. I thought I would hate it, so I procrastinated, and finally dragged myself to the computer and suprised myself with how fun it was to type it up. Keef and Jimmy are both creepers, agreed? Did that seem random? It won't once you read the chapter. So start reading it, you readers out there! Yes, even the ones out that never comment or favorite this and yet still follow the storyline every time it is put up. Come on, the review button won't bite...that hard.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this chapter.**

* * *

"Remind me why you do not wish to do the mission yourself?" Zim asked Johnny as the finishing touches were put on to the now-repaired object displacement device. "And why you do not trust Zim to complete it for you?"

"Simple," Johnny replied with a suppressed yawn. Dib wasn't used to Johnny's sleepless habits. "I can't do it myself, partly because I have what doctors call a little bit of an anger problem. I would probably just end up killing my body in a fit of rage, and I sure as hell don't trust you to get him. You would probably capture him and then refuse to give him up unless there was an exchange of some kind in the form of an idiotic lesson about killing human beings or something. And if I were to comply, you would still probably try to kill both of us anyway."

"Wise decision, for that is exactly what Zim would do," the Irken admitted. "You are most lucky, Nny-human, that I have not destroyed you for taking my Pak and using it to force me to work on this device. Speaking of which, it is finished."

"Are you sure?" Johnny asked skeptically, drawing upon a few memories of failed experiments Zim had shown to at least Tallest Purple. It had normally resulted in the death or almost-death of the test subject. And he didn't want to die as Dib. If he did, he wasn't sure quite what would happen to the two of them in the afterlife. And besides, Agent Pandora's Box (who is within the Swollen Eyeball and the only one who believes in Dib every time) would probably go insane with grief if she found out Dib had died. He didn't want to be responsible for creating another mass murderer.

The Irken nodded. "Zim is certain. The teleportation option is fully functional and ready to be used. But before that, fully explain your plan. All that you've communicated was that two people should go try and find a way to get the unnamed human here, and that it would be inappropriate for it to be us. Expand on that idea."

"We need to find two loyal people to do the job, two who would never betray us," Johnny announced, temporarily allowing Dib to take over his actions so that he may inspect the machine to be absolutely certain there were no flaws. "Though they are the most irritating people in the universe, they will help us willingly."

Zim gasped as he caught on to Johnny's though process. "Zim knows of one, and how DARE you think he could do a better job! I REFUSE to allow that human stink-child inside my lab! Keef deserves to rot in a pit of neverending doom!"

"With poisonous snakes thrown into it," Johnny added with a grim chuckle, in control again after Dib determined that the machine would work. "You haven't met my version of Keef, but I believe he is more annoying."

"LIAR!" the Irken hissed. "There is none more annoying than my stalker of an ex-best friend!"

The maniac ignored this and typed in the names of the duo he needed into the teleportation option. With a flash of light, two disoriented people stood in the room. The orange-haired one quickly squeed with glee when he saw Zim.

"Hi bestest friend!" Keef exclaimed, waving happily. "How ya doin'? I missed you so much! Do you wanna go to the park? OH! Or we could go to the carnival! Do you want to go to the carnival, Zim?"

"Silence, squealy fool!" Zim shrieked at the child. The grown man of the pair got up from the ground with a groan of pain. Nny noticed with interest that his own irritating stalker had deep scratches on his face and blossoming, dark purple bruises.

"Where am I?" Jimmy wondered, holding his throbbing head. He glanced down at the three. "And who are you kids supposed to be?"

The maniac immediately wanted to strangle Mmy for the condescending glance he was given, but Dib's mind quickly quelled his anger for fear of repercussions. "Hello, Jimmy. How horrible it is to see you again."

"Do I know you?" Jimmy growled, looking down at what he perceived to be a stuck-up, snobby little boy. "And if I have, was it because I did your mom or something because she resisted before I killed her?"

"No," Nny hissed, still furious that Jimmy would even consider doing such a thing. "It's Johnny, you vile waste of bones and blood. Or do you not remember me ripping you open with metal and smashing you with a hammer for trying to 'learn from me'?"

"No fucking way!" Mmy gasped. "I'm seeing things! I'm dreaming or still knocked out from that one freaky chick! You can't be Nny, I just tried to seduce him last night!"

"You WHAT?" Johnny yelled, overcoming Dib's restraint with how powerful his rage was. The homicidal maniac grabbed the screwdriver nearby and knocked Jimmy to the ground, prepared to drive the tool through the brain of his fan.

Zim noticed the scene and rushed over, snatching the device from the maniac. "Cease this, Nny-human! I believe that this…filth…here will not easily help if he were destroyed! Explain things to him. Quickly, before Zim enters the same rage with Keef here!"

"What's going on, buddy?" Keef asked with a grin. He pointed to Jimmy. "Is that another friend for us to play with? YAY!" The boy skipped over and hugged Mmy, then helped him up with an innocent smile.

Jimmy shuddered and shifted away from the child. "Dude, stop it! You're freaking me out!"

Nny calmed down and smirked at the fact that his enemy was so easily scared by Keef. "I think I like this plan more now that I know Keef might possibly scar him for life with all that natural happiness."

"And Jimmy may kill Keef if he is disturbed enough!" Zim celebrated. "Everyone would win! Well, heh, except for them obviously."

Jimmy scowls at Zim and Johnny's conversation. "We can HEAR you, you know!" Jimmy turns to Johnny and smiles flirtatiously. "But of course, I forgive you. And what do you plan to use us for, you stud, you?"

"One: Don't EVER call me that EVER again, or Senor Diablo will be expecting a visit from you very shortly with a nail shoved through your skull. Second: From what you said before, I believe you've already met my body wandering around. I need you to bring him back to me. Unharmed."

"Aww, you lost your body?" Keef cooed obliviously. "That's so sad! I lost my eyeballs once, I know how you feel. We'll bring him back! Right new buddy?" He hugged Jimmy's legs, and the wannabe maniac quickly disentangled himself from the hug.

"We don't have much of a choice," Jimmy grumbled. He turned to Nny again with a grin. "Did you at least lose it in a sexy way?"

Johnny ignored the question, knowing to do so would only provoke a hideous response. "My body is most likely still at a concert at wherever MTV likes to film shit. You know what to do, so leave."

Mmy looked slightly offended. "What? No kiss good-bye? At least give me a weapon to defend myself with if your body goes psycho!"

Zim sighed and smoothed back his antennae. "Yes, very well. You may have…erm…a faulty prototype Pak I originally planned to stick onto Dib's back to torture him." Johnny allowed Dib to glare at the invader, who shrugged in response. "What? Zim doesn't lie…much."

Nny sighed and threw the nearby Pak to Jimmy, who grinned deviously when he discovered how many weapons it held. Keef exclaimed over how pretty it looked, Jimmy put it on himself, and both used the machine to be teleported to the concert.

"Thank God they're gone," Johnny sighed and leaned back in a chair. "I was starting to believe that they would prefer to stay and drive both of us to suicide."

Zim shuddered and nodded in agreement. But he gave Johnny an odd look. "You let the Dib take control for more moments than you have in the past. Why is this?"

"I honestly don't know. I think it has something to do with not having as much strength when I'm not in my own body, and allowing him to take over for a few moments help me save my willpower for the important things."

"What would happen if you were to stay as Dib for too long?"

"Honestly? Why do you care?" Johnny asked suspiciously.

"Zim is merely curious as to the effects of body switching, and the effects of it are vital knowledge if I need to attempt it for the future. Tell Zim what he wants to know! I command you!"

"I think I would fade into the recesses of his mind, giving him the possibility of turning into me when he grows up and eventually snaps at the world that gives him no credit for stopping your plans for world conquest," Nny answered honestly. "Which would not bode well for your future. Think about it. Dib turning into me? That would be insane, even for my taste! I'm already afraid it may happen to my next door neighbor, Squee, due to my visits. Or he may turn into a version of Dib, either one seems unfortunately plausible."

"So, no matter what happens, you and Dib will both exist in some form?"

"Precisely."

Zim grumbled to himself. "And here I was starting to think that I could be rid of both of you for good if one of you perished! Ah, well, we will see what occurs over time, yes?"

Johnny took a deep breath and allowed Dib to completely (albeit temporarily) take over so that he could rest without sleeping. Dib could sleep, but this way, Johnny wouldn't have to do it himself. Also so Johnny wouldn't have to deal with Zim directly any more. Dib blinked slowly and glared at Zim.

"So you are back again," the Invader noticed. "Zim could tell, for your eye color lightened considerably. It turned from the color of wood to a putrid yellow."

"Oh, shut up, Zim. I'm not awake enough to deal with you right now," Dib said with a yawn. "I just hope this whole thing is over with soon. Gaz and my dad are probably worried about me not being at home for a while now. Actually, I take that back. Gaz is too obssessed with her video games to care, and Dad is at work to much to even notice when I'm hurt or gone."

"Yes, yes, your depressing life story is fascinating and pitiable," Zim said, disinterested. "I believe you overheard what the maniac and I discussed?"

Dib rolled his eyes. "Duh, he used _my_ vocal chords to talk to you, of course I would know what you two talked about! Yeah, I hope that Johnny's wrong. I don't want to turn into him."

"Why not? You could kill Zim and be more powerful! Isn't that what you want, Dib-stink?"

The boy shook his head. "No, that's not what I want. I don't want to kill anyone, not even you. At least, not directly with no benefit to mankind. The scary thing is, I could see that happening," Dib admitted with a shudder, pulling his knees close to his chest. "Please God, if you're there, don't let that happen. I want to protect mankind, not destroy it. Watch over my soul."

Zim did a double take. "Are you…praying to a higher power, Dib-worm?"

"Hey, I might as well try, right?" Dib defended himself with. His face fell a little as his eyes started to close in weariness. "But why would he listen to me? No one else does. He's probably more focused on solving world hunger and instigating world peace, things more important than the hopes of a disheartened paranormal investigator. Geez, I think Nny is starting to make me more angsty than normal. Just another sign that I may unfortunately become him, no matter what I do." The boy closed his eyes completely in both resignation and tiredness.

"Dib?" Zim asked. He poked the boy with one claw, only to find that the child had fallen asleep entirely. Zim seemed unsure of what to do next.

"Computer?" he whispered to the house.

"What?" Computer asked indignantly. "What do I have to do now?"

"Make the Dib comfortable without awakening him," Zim commanded quietly. "I refuse to do so myself! He's too sickening for Zim to bother himself with doing it!"

"Why do you care at all in the first place whether or not he's comfortable?"

Zim paused and considered this. "Hmm…I'm not sure. I still hate him, certainly, as my superior skin crawls at the sight of that big head. But he spoke the hideous truth," Zim admitted. "That deserves a bit of a reward. So do as Zim says and make the child comfortable."

"Fine, whatever," Computer growled. A bed rose up from the floor and two robotic arms carefully picked the boy up and placed him on the bed. The arms pulled the blanket gently over the human and retracted back into the ceiling. "There. Happy now?"

"I'll never be happy as long as he's in my base, Computer," Zim said with a chuckle. "You should be aware of that by now. But it's necessary, so for now, I'll leave him to his pitiful need for sleep." With that, Zim marched out of the room and rose up in the elevator, darkening the room so that his enemy could sleep peacefully.

But he also pressed a button that locked down the entire room so he couldn't escape. After all, that was his enemy in there. He couldn't be trusted.


	11. Slice

**Author's Note: I hate Jimmy. I HATE HIM SO MUCH! Sorry for the delay, but I _loathed_ writing this chapter, since it included getting into the mind of Jimmy. It's a freaky, dark place that I don't ever recommend visiting any time soon.**

* * *

"…and then we played tetherball on the playground, and when we won, we danced around each other like two kitty-cats!" Keef babbled on. "Then I made him bacon and waffles at his house! He helped me fly out the door like Superman and then I was gonna throw him a surprise party and then…"

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!" Jimmy shouted at the little child. Keef just smiled and continued on with his tale. God, he was annoying. But apparently useful, for why else would the incredible Johnny C. let the little green guy enlist him? He still had yet to figure out the kid's purpose thus far. So far all Keef was doing was annoying the hell out of him and testing his patience. It's bad enough that the portal thing dropped them from ten feet above the building, but he'd rather get brutally maimed by his role model again and land on a bed of spikes before trying to last the rest of the mission with Keef.

Mmy noticed with amazement that his new little dangerous toy responded to his anger and tried to blast his temporary partner. He didn't even have to aim at him!

"I see stars and rainbows!" Keef giggled after getting up, only slightly scorched. How much did it take to _kill_ this kid? "Rainbow is my favorite color! What is yours?"

"If I tell you, will you shut your mouth and stop talking?"

"Okay!"

"Midnight blue. Now be quiet and let me figure this out." Keef complied and didn't talk, but instead hummed the Barbie Girl song. Jimmy clenched his fists, taking a deep breath. If he killed this kid now, he might regret it later, and the little green guy would have won. That couldn't happen. He needed to win at least ONE thing in his life. Even something so minor as this.

He took out a screwdriver and popped open an air vent expertly. One good thing about being a stalker is knowing how to get to places he needed to go, even with obstacles in his way. This was child's play. But this could be a trap, it seemed to easy to get into a concert area without some kind of guard noticing them. He might fall right through the ceiling and lay on the floor, bleeding and broken, in front of secutiry. He should test it out first.

"Ooo, a tunnel!" Keef said in awe.

"Er, yeah! That's right!" Jimmy exclaimed back, a new plan forming. "Go ahead, jump in there! I bet there's candy at the end! _Japanese_ candy!"

"Cool!" The orange-haired kid jumped into the vent and Jimmy listened for any screams of pain. All he heard was a thud and giggling from the annoying child. Dissapointed that no harm was done, but happy that it was safe for him, Mmy eased himself down slowly. He slipped at one point, he braced for impact, but none came. The Pak had shot out with legs or something, very spider-like. It made eerie tapping noises against the sides of the surprisingly large vent.

"Did you hear that?" a slightly muffled voice inquired. Mmy froze, as did Keef, sensing the mood for once. The voice sounded like Johnny's, so it must be his body. Jimmy glanced down through one of the slits in the vent and noticed a tall red-haired college kid tilting his head to the side. The person across from him made Mmy's heart beat a little faster in anticipation. A slightly pale, dark-haired man was standing upright and slowly scanning the area with observant, insomnia-lined eyes. That steel-toed boot tapped against the floor in an apparent nervous habit. Jimmy raised an eyebrow in confusion. He knew from having followed Johnny for so long that the maniac didn't _have_ a nervous habit such as that, he was too confident in what he was doing to be nervous of anything. Was this newly acquired from whoever the hell this body thought he was? Mmy watched through the vent anxiously to see if the other kid did in fact hear him. That one little unfamiliar tapping sound was making him increasingly uneasy.

The college kid shook his head in response to the other man's question, said something Jimmy didn't quite catch, and walked away. The unnamed body of Johnny C. stayed a little longer, just listening. If he was as aware of his surroundings as Johnny was, this could end badly the longer Mmy tried to wait it out. He would be captured for sure unless he did something. Time to set a false trail.

Jimmy eased down the rest of the way until he stood on his normal two legs. He took off the Pak and put it on Keef instead. For some reason, it went haywire, Pak legs springing out and scurrying down one of the narrower tunnels, Keef's head every once in a while bumping painfully against the ceiling. Mmy just barely repressed an evil snicker at seeing the elementary schooler as the Pak practically slammed the small head against the sides of the vent repeatedly. He forced himself to refocus. Jimmy found the slits in the vent again and looked out. He watched as the body's eyes were trained on the ceiling and following the noisy trail Keef was making until he was out of hearing range.

"That was odd," the body muttered before also strolling away. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief, cursing the total ignorance of the circumstances. He should have been more careful! That annoying _kid_ threw him off his game. After all, it couldn't be his own fault. Mmy vowed to stab Keef later and make sure he stayed dead, maybe check out the child's home to see if the mother was around or a sister. He needed a little entertainment after this was all over. As much as he liked to think so, he knew that Johnny wouldn't provide that, he knew him well enough to know that any serious advances would result in that irritating scenario of dying again. He thought how wonderful it would be if Johnny and he could be… ya know… together. It won't ever happen. FAR too unrealistic. But hey, a guy can dream, can't he? For the record, Jimmy didn't consider himself 'gay', per say. He was just curious as to what it would be like. _Morbidly_ curious.

"Hey, Unnamed!" a familiar female voice called out. The stalker narrowed his eyes at the sight of that _bitch_ strolling up to his target so calmly, no fear on her face, not a single hair out of place despite unknowingly having two killers in her presence. Did she have NO animalistic feeling of fear at ALL? Jimmy thought every girl had those instincts! He growled to himself but allowed her to talk, for now. And she DID provide him with a name for the body. Unnamed. Unique, yes, but not as cool-sounding as he had hoped.

"What is it, Sam?" Unnamed asked bluntly, though not unkindly. Sam shifted a little in place uncomfortably.

"Um, the agents think you're great and everything, but they were wondering if we could expand our genre enough to suit their interests," she explained. "They think sticking to creepy songs is too repetitive and predictable, and that we should throw something unexpected in. Or at least one song that's the complete opposite of what we're doing and very out of character for you. They want to see how we all act out of our comfort zone."

Unnamed's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And that would be..."

"A Mika song," Sam stated with a sigh. "That's the only one we could come to a truce on. They were thinking along the lines of the song 'Hey There Delilah' while we were thinking something more unusual. So they said we could do any song from that group, and do it well, and only then could we possibly get in. I was thinking the song 'Lollipop'. It will certainly test your range, but I was thinking that maybe if we worked with Joey so he could fine tune your voice while Chase keeps those impatient bastards at bay, we might be able to pull this off."

Jimmy tired of this crap, droning on and on, talking about things that may take forever to discuss. So he improvised on a new plan using his black boots and the weak vent cover. It clattered to the ground between the two below, and before they could react, a knife appeared over both of their throats. Unnamed hissed at the sharpened knife glinting too close to an artery. Jimmy only smirked. He felt powerful in this position, in control, the one in charge for once in his miserable life.

"Hey, Unnamed," he taunted, calmly pressing the knife closer to stop his victim from struggling lest he bleed to death. "Miss me? Because I sure went through hell trying to find you."

Unnamed gulped uneasily at the feel of cool metal against his throat. His mind went over several possible scenarios, each including smashing this man's face in, but he couldn't find the courage to do it. He lost something when he decided not to be _too_ creepy in order to make himself feel better after that Nightmare Before Christmas song. He lost something vital that he never figured he would use in life. A touch of his inner insanity. Unnamed hated himself intensely for not being able to move out of his position as a victim, too frightened of dying, too apprehensive to be brave enough to risk his life just to kick this guy's ass and keep him away for good.

Even Sam, who put up a brave front when confronting Mmy before, was silent, eyes wide with fear. Her limbs shook with revulsion when Jimmy leaned close to her.

"I think we have some unfinished business, little girl," Jimmy whispered to her. "As soon as my errand is complete, I'll come back for you, have a little fun before murdering you. For now, though, I'll leave you this friendly reminder to stay quiet about this whole thing." His wrist movement was so quick that Sam didn't even feel the pain at first, only a slight pressure on her throat that faded as fast as it had come. It wasn't until she saw red ooze pooling on to her shirt and started coughing up blood whenever she tried to speak that she knew something was seriously wrong. It was only when she tried to call for help that the pain intensified to an unbearable agony. Intinctively, she tried to scream, only worsening her torture. Jimmy snickered at her pain, the three of them knowing her wound wasn't fatal since no major veins or arteries were sliced, but something almost as bad. He had jabbed the knife into her vocal chords, ensuring that she would never speak again.

Hate flared in Unnamed's eyes at the scene of an injury to a human being who didn't deserve it. The pity wasn't from any romantic feeling, nor was it just from seeing the injury at all. It was the crooked justice that infuriated him, seeing a former singer being stabbed mercilessly in the throat, taking away what was most treasured to her. He started fighting back against Jimmy, trying to break free so he could do whatever it took to make sure Jimmy went back to Hell where he truly belonged. But it still was slightly restrained by the spark of humanity that Unnamed had gotten by obtaining friends. It wasn't at the same level of unholy fury that Johnny would have unleashed on to his 'fan'. So the stalker easily dragged the loudly cursing Unnamed out to the abandoned parking lot out back.

Unnamed kept fighting, even with a knife against his throat and his life being at stake, still enraged over seeing a friend of his get maimed. Mmy noticed this and was becoming increasingly irritated with the lack of cooperation. So he did what he considered to be the most sensible thing and slammed Unnamed into the nearest brick wall, not knocking him out, but surely stunning him long enough to at least find the fucking alien's house. Unnamed was dragged behind Jimmy by his hair, and the dazed victim watched as he was pulled away from his only friends in the world, his only chance at being truly at peace.


	12. All Together Now

Zim marched down to the lab and peered at the makeshift bed he had left the Dib. Apparently, the child was still sleeping. Zim smirked. This was perfect! He had been cordial to the human child merely because he now contained the capacity to kill him, a reluctant, tense alliance at best. But sleeping...he was no threat whatsoever. And he had more than enough time to wake up, considering he has slept for two hours now, so Dib was officially at the mercy of his captor.

The Irken tip-toed over and carefully removed the blanket from Dib's form. The raven-haired child shivered, but only curled up more instead of waking. Zim smiled at his lack of resistance and lifted the boy from the bed on to a nearby operating table. Metal clasps appeared over Dib's ankles and wrists, imprisoning him with a loud _chink_, and yet it still did not awaken him. The Invader whistled a quiet, happy tune and retrieved a small surgical knife before returning to his subject. He opened up the front of the human's trench coat and sliced the blue smiley-face t-shirt in half, exposing Dib's chest. He was about to make the first incision in the general heart area when a voice interrupted him.

"What are you doing?" a hoarse voice asked.

"Eh?" Zim looked behind him to find J, still strapped to a wall, staring at him uncomprehendingly. "Oh! Zim had forgotten you were still here! You see, I am about to dissect the Dib-worm! It shall be the ultimate revenge on this pitiful thing!"

"That's not very nice," J stated with a puzzled frown and worried eyes. "I mean, killing him so slowly and painfully? Does he really deserve that?"

"Who asked YOU?" Zim snapped. "You cannot even _comprehend_ the trouble this child has given me, _me_, the Almighty Zim!"

"But he's still a child, nonetheless!" J pointed out. "He's been on this Earth for a little over a decade! That's not considered very long in our society. He barely understands the workings of the world!"

"And how many decades are _you_, filthy human, to claim to have this wisdom the Dib does not?" Zim demanded.

"Um...two and a half decades," J admitted. He tilted his head to the side. "Actually, that's how long _Johnny's_ been here. I've only been here a few days myself. But I have the knowledge and memories of Nny. That should count as something, right?"

"Do not attempt to distract Zim from his goal!" Zim snapped. He waved a hand at J. "Go be silent while I perform the surgery."

"And what is your goal, Zim? I doubt this is really about Dib. I feel you're just taking your anger out on him, just as Johnny had earlier taken his anger out on me by stabbing me in the knees," J commented, calm and collected despite having just brought up a painful memory.

"Well, the Dib-stink is an obstacle in my goal to take over the Earth to please my Tallest!"

"Ah. So that's what this is about. Pleasing your leaders," J noticed. "Do they, by any chance, make fun of you? Belittle you?"

"You know NOTHING, J-thing! NOTHING!" Zim announced. A door on the first floor slammed open, startling the two. Jimmy made an appearance, grumbling darkly and dragging a thin man by the boot down the stairs. The victim swore harshly at his captor, threatening death and doom along with several other things that caused Zim to snicker evilly and J to sigh in disapproval.

"Your house is so fucking hard to find!" Jimmy whined. "I got lost three times on the way here! Why couldn't you have made this easier for me, huh?"

"Keef knows the location of my base!" Zim argued. "Seeing as he is absent, I suppose you disposed of him! Could you not have done it _after_ he revealed my whereabouts?"

Jimmy blinked. "Oh. Heh, didn't think about that."

"Perfect!" his victim snapped, still unable to get away from his captor's grip. "Just frickin' PERFECT! You drag me across cement for almost two hours, knocking my head against walls, when you could have just walked here in five minutes? You're a complete IDIOT!"

"Shut up!" Jimmy snapped. "Just because you're cute, Unnamed, it doesn't mean you can talk back to me!"

"I'm not afraid of you!" Unnamed retorted. He pointed accusingly at J. "And who the HELL is that? He looks just like me, but more calm!"

"Ainsi la réflexion rencontre l'ombre," J stated with a sigh. "_Thus the reflection meets the shadow_, since it's obvious by your vacant expression that you do not fully understand the fine art of French. I'm J, by the way. Pleased to meet you."

"Wait a minute...I remember now! I saw you walking happily out of that lab...doctor...dentist...something...ugh, horrible place!" Unnamed exclaimed. He cried out in pain when Jimmy let go of his boot and yanked Unnamed's hair.

"Shut up!" Mmy barked. "God, why do you talk so much?"

"I wasn't the one who was blabbing about how 'epic' and 'legit' he was the whole way here!" Unnamed growled. "So YOU shut up!"

"SILENCE, ALL OF YOU!" Zim roared. He activated his Pak legs and raised himself up until he was nearly as tall as his Tallest, letting him tower over the three in an effort to intimidate them. "Now, listen carefully to Zim's instructions. Jimmy-thing, secure the pitiful body of the maniac over near the Dib. Unfortunately, I lack an extra operating table, so you must make do with whatever restraining devices you find there. Unnamed, bend to Jimmy's will and all will be explained to you shortly before you cease to be yourself. J...I swear on the Almighty Tallest that if you so much as open your jaw to utter a single word in either the Dib-thing's or the unnamed human's defense, I will rip open your skull and remove your brain in a classic homicidal maniac fashion! Understand?"

"Yes, sir!" Jimmy responded with a sarcastic salute. He strutted over to the operating table, intending to find the scythe-haired boy restrained as was promised, only to discover that same boy sitting cross-legged on the table. "Um, alien dude thing? I thought you said that kid was strapped to the table or something."

"He ISN'T?" Zim snarled, spinning around to face the scene. He stomped up to the table and glared at the boy suspiciously. To his relief, there was no trace of Johnny's presence in the boy's eyes. Safety assured, Zim grew angrier at this blatant disregard to the common captor-captured rule of remaining captured until further notice.

"No, I'm not," Dib replied casually.

"GET BACK TO BEING RESTRAINED, DIB-STINK!"

"No, thank you. I'd rather not."

"YOU DARE-"

"Yes," Dib told Zim, cutting him off. He stood up on the table, either unaware of how intimidating he looked with a torn t-shirt, added height from the table, and a backlight from the operating table illuminating only the edges of his features, or fully aware of it and using it to his advantage. He fixed Zim with a penetrating glare, earning a hiss in return. "I do dare. You know why, you filthy alien scum? Because I'm not afraid of you, especially after all that's happened so far. YOU'RE the one who should be scared. After all, someday Dad WILL believe me and see you for the egotistical extraterrestial that you are. I WILL capture you and display you for all to see, floating in a tube without your disguise to hide your disgusting bug eyes and cockroach antennae. You know what will happen then? I will be a hero, savior of Earth, and you'll be nothing to me but a half-forgotten childhood memory with your Pak sitting on my shelf as a trophy. So, you want to catch me instead, do you? You want to fight me? Then go ahead, space boy. You know you'll lose."

In Dib's mind, this random ranting served a purpose. He learned from Johnny that ranting, coupled with insults, provoked one enough to a fight. The scythe-haired boy was certain he would win, and thought it convenient to have an audience to witness his final triumph. That way, no one could dispute it. He could always let J and Unnamed go, avoid anything that would provoke Johnny's presence, send the police after Jimmy, and pretend the whole thing had never happened.

Zim stepped back one step, startled at this sudden confidence of his enemy, but only for a moment. His antennae flattened against his head at the obvious insult to his person and, with a snarl, he tackled Dib off of the table and began to viciously claw at him. Dib tried to pull on Zim's antennae and kick his pak off during this, but they were too evenly matched. Blood began to flow from both opponents, staining the floor a christmasy red and green. Without someone to intervene, they would destroy each other, as this fight was unlike any other before. Instead of one trying to restrain the other or get away, they were each in a warrior mindset. If left unattended, they would battle until one of them fell for good.

Jimmy watched the fight with mild interest, only seeing two immature little brats fight it out like he had seen two cats do in an alleyway. Not a big deal.

Unnamed knew about the possible fatality a little better and tried to escape Jimmy's grasp, hoping to break them up, but he couldn't. So he watched helplessly as two young, somewhat inexperienced children tried to destroy each other for no real reason other than pure hatred. Unnamed closed his eyes and looked away, not wanting to see the inevitable corpses of the boys.

J tested his restraints, seeing if he could help, but they were too tight. Even Johnny would not have been able to break the ones J was currently trapped in, but he had to remember that is WAS Johnny who was behind the entrapment and would know what he himself wouldn't be able to escape. However, at the mental mentioning of Johnny, J got an idea. Johnny was still in Dib's psyche somewhere, right? Was Dib, possibly, trying to fight Zim to the death now so that he could use Johnny's skills to win? Hell, even if Dib lost and died, Dib wouldn't have to deal with being a vessel anymore! But J was certain that Nny would not approve the death of a child being on his conscience, even if the child was either horribly deluded or incredibly evil, and even if he weren't directly involved in said death. That was his one limit. So, J knew he had to bring Johnny back. But how? There wasn't anything that could bring him back abruptly enough to stop the battle and get things back on track!

Well, there was one way, but...

No, it's a desperate move.

But maybe desperate is what is needed right now.

* * *

**Aaaaannnnnddddd...END SCENE! Yes, it's a cliffhanger. Aren't I just terrible? I didn't even give you guys the slightest clue as to what he's thinking of to bring Nny back! Not in the slightest! *cackles evilly***


	13. Over the Stars

**Me: Insert epic chapter here. THE END! Muahahahahahaha!**

**You: *gasp* D: I dun lyk dis stowee noo moe!**

**Me: Don't worry, I kid, I kid. I was just late for this chappie, but here it is. I transferred the first half or so from my iPod touch, and then inspiration hit me! I also had lots of fun writing the end of this! Yay! ****It's a bit shorter than my other chapters, but here you go anyway! There'll probably be only a couple of chapters left for this. It'll probably wrap up soon. Soon as in chapter-wise. Not real-world-timewise.**

**You: Pen, y u no update faster? :(**

**Me: ... *trollface***

* * *

J bit his lip, going over the most finite details of his plan. He had only once chance to stop Dib from destroying himself and Johnny. That was _his_ job to kill Nny, not Dib's or Zim's! But he is seriously considering going against Membrane's orders and instead just let everyone walk free. Or not. He would think of it after this...unpleasantness...was done and over with. Perhaps over a smoothie or something. Not over a cherry Brainfreezy, though. Too childish and unhealthy.

J shook his head and refocused on the plan. He nodded firmly. Time to implement it and pray to God that it worked.

"Stop! Suicide isn't the answer!" J cried out to the fighting boys. Dib pushed Zim away from him only to tackle him again, ignoring J.

"Like hell it isn't," Unnamed mumbled to himself, but loud enough for everyone to hear. This caused Dib to pause and look confused. He glanced suspiciously at J, not knowing where this conversation was headed, but not liking it all the same.

"You can't imagine, the things he's done," J told Unnamed with a nod toward Dib. Or, more precisely, toward the general direction of Johnny. Not that Unnamed knew that. "I, personally, don't _have_ to imagine. He found me on the street, talked to me once, then chained me to a wall just yesterday! He even stabbed me by jamming the blade of a knife directly underneath my kneecap!"

Unnamed's jaw dropped. "What kind of sick person would do something like that?" he demanded. He shot a vicious glare at Dib. "It would have been better to kill yourself instead of harming an innocent person!"

Zim laughed harshly, brushing debris from his uniform. "You've got to be kidding the almighty Zim. Kill yourself? What on Irk would THAT accomplish? Any soldier on any planet would be much better off killing others for being inferior, rude little stink-pigs! Paint the wall with their blood and rejoice for lessening the stupid in the world!"

A frightened Dib looked on as Zim and Unnamed argued back and forth. Zim kept insisting that killing humans was the correct thing to do in order to eliminate the horrible FILTH on this pathetic excuse for a planet. Unnamed snapped back that it would be better to kill oneself if one is deranged enough to even seriously consider such acts of violence, perhaps giving way to some new type of species. Jimmy, wanting to fit in, added that whatever acts made a person feel good should be done, whether that was pigging out on food, engaging in a lustful pursuit, or killing masses of people for fun. Zim and Unnamed told him simultaneously to shut up and stay out of it.

"The voices have become self-aware. They're not what you think they are anymore," J said ominously with a pointed look in Dib's direction. But it wasn't the scythe-haired boy he was looking at. It was the homicidal maniac that he knew was watching the scene unfold with growing horror. But he was still obviously containing himself and resisting against breaking out. Or, as J guessed, maybe he wanted to break through, but didn't have nearly enough incentive to do so. He needed that extra burst of emotion to overcome any and all barriers. Time to dig the proverbial knife a bit deeper than he had planned. J bit his lip. He _really_ didn't want to go this far, but he needed to.

"You tried to kill that girl. Her name was Devi. She liked you, and you tried to kill her and tried to literally stab her in the back. That was impolite. So you must prefer this to any pleasure that friends, or even a girl who loves you, might give."

"I-I d-don't...I mean...uh..." Dib stammered, trying to keep himself under control. Images flashed through his mind involuntarily, reminding him of all the goulish things Nny had done, including what he had almost done to Devi. Tears that did not belong to him leapt unbidden to his eyes. He quickly wiped them away with his sleeve with a scowl, a slow anger starting to burn inside him.

Zim apparently sensed this and snickered. "HA! This insignificant pest is causing you to feel angry, Dib-worm? He is causing you distress? Then it should be no problem to kill him, as you seemed quite willing to kill Zim a moment ago! Do it _now_! Kill the beast and feel...eh..._feelings_...that feel...good, but bad...or something..."

"Kill yourself before doing something as evil as that! Kill yourself along with me; I don't have anything to live for anymore! Please," Unnamed begged. "Do it for a friend."

"...Or you and I could go to a club, dance with hot chicks, then blow the club up just for fun!" Mmy suggested like an excited child.

J smiled sadly and shook his head at the irony. "I'm stuck to a wall, Zim wants your homicidal skills to be put to work, Unnamed wants you to kill yourself, and Jimmy wants you to be satisfied in every disturbing sense of the word," J pointed out. Dib's eyes widened as he realized what was going on, then narrowed in a hatred unbecoming to his character. A familiar spark entered his eyes. J almost had him. Now there was just one last thing to get Nny back. This was certain to work. J tilted his head to the side and gave his best impression of an arrogant smirk.

"Y'know what? With that crazed look in your eye, pointy hair, big head, and wide glasses, you look quite...wacky." With this, J shut his eyes tightly and held his breath, bracing for an inevitable attack. He was prepared for any normal reaction; anything like ranting, screaming, cursing and stabbing. But the sound that reached his ears after several seconds of silence was completely unexpected. Happy laughter. J opened one eye and found the source to be Dib himself, cracking up as if he had heard a really good joke. His unnexpected nerdy laughter filled the room, confusing everyone in it. Everyone except Unnamed, that is, since everyone had forgotten about him and did not notice the fact that he seemed to be missing from the room.

"Th-thank you!" the scythe-haired boy finally got out between laughs. "I think that finally scared Johnny away for good! Thank you so much!"

Zim looked disappointed, as did Jimmy. J was as well, but pretended to be happy for Dib, for sanity's sake. He smiled widely. "You are very welcome. Anything to help a child in need of assistance like yourself!"

The child smiled back and was about to say something else when strong, wiry arms grabbed him from behind, pulling him up from from the floor by his neck. Unnamed stood in a fighting stance, eyes shifting crazily from person to person with gritted teeth and a heaving breath. It was strange, but since Mmy had been holding Unnamed by the hair, Unnamed had to have escaped at the expense of his hair being painfully ripped out. And with his having been dragged down the street, struggling and with blood spattered on his clothes, he looked uncannily similar to how Johnny had looked right after getting out of hell. But much more...angry.

"You just HAD to say that FUCKING word, didn't you?" Unnamed shouted, pointing at J with a free hand. "Of ALL of the words you could have said to bring this 'Johnny' person back, you had to use the most useless slang to ever be invented by the ape-shit known as mankind!"

Dib gasped for breath and struggled in Unnamed's arm, bringing his captor's attention back to him. Unnamed pointed at Dib, but kept his glare on J. "Can't you see he's a fucking LIAR? CAN'T YOU? He's pretending, you dipshit! Look at him! LOOK AT HIM! And goddammit, little boy, open your eyes wide enough for him to see!"

"Let him go!" J shouted back, struggling in his restraints. "He's just an innocent child!"

Unnamed laughed harshly. "Innocent? Oh, how you contradict yourself! This is no ordinary boy! No, it's a shapeshifting...thing! His eye color has changed! Do you see it? DO YOU?"

Sure enough, J DID notice the change at Unnamed's urging. Dib's normal eyecolor had definitely become much darker than usual; nearly black, in fact. How hadn't he noticed it before when he was talking to Dib? Or talking to Nny, more likely? And how had Nny been able to withstand the word wacky, even cleverly pretending to still be Dib and not be bothered by it at all, while his counterpart had gone absolutely insane at the mere mention of it? But that was Dib's fear of dying in his eyes, not Johnny's. It was clearly Dib struggling now, even while Johnny was supposedly in control. What was going on?

Then he remembered. _Nothing quite brings out the zest for life in a person like the thought of their impending death!_ It HAD still been Dib he had been talking to earlier! Johnny's only appearing now because his life felt threatened! He may not be fully in control yet, but he will be soon enough. It should only take a minute. Or a second. J STILL had one last trick up his sleeve. Not a trick, really. Just positive motivation.

"Johnny, I know you may not really care if you die or not!" J called out. Dib's eyes darted over to him, darkening a bit more even while Dib himself still struggled. Perfect. He was listening. "But if you die, you'll leave little Squeegee all alone with his neglectful parents! Without you around, he'll either die within the year or grow up to become you! A mass murderer! Is that what you want for him? To lead a life of angst and bloodshed while you're watching helplessly from Hell? He may even kill himself one day! He NEEDS you, Nny! Will you desert him?"

"NO!" Johnny shouted, fully enraged. He bit Unnamed's hand, who yelled in pain and let him drop to the floor, where he landed nimbly. He looked up into what was basically a reflection of himself in one of his more uncontrollable tantrums. And he had to find a way to restrain the other man to get things back to normal while he was half his height? Shit. Shit, shit, SHIT! How the HELL was he supposed to do that? It was impossible! Unless...

"Hey! Look! A thing!" Johnny told him, pointing at a random spot behind Unnamed. Unnamed, of course, looked behind him long enough for Johnny to take him out by tackling his knees. Unnamed stumbled backward, frantically trying to keep his balance, but failing miserably. A sharp crack echoed through Zim's lab as Unnamed's skull collided with the corner of the Zim's metal dissection table. Johnny stood back from the scene and winced.

"THAT is going to hurt in the morning," he muttered without humor. After all, how could he have any humor in this situation? People were pretending to be his voices, the memories of his disasterous date with Devi were fresh in his mind, and he had just been reminded how terrible Squee's life is. Not only that, but he might have just technically killed himself! Unnamed WAS him, after all.

"Is...is he dead?" J whispered in horror as blood trickled from Unnamed's head wound. Zim strolled over to the body and crouched in front of the wound. After a moment of inspection, he nodded.

Johnny watched the dead body blankly as blood started to trickle across the floorboards. He was dead in body, but alive in mind. Oh, how fucking cruel irony could be! He could only kill himself successfully if it's accidental or if he changed his mind! And he was pretty sure that a person couldn't come back from the dead _twice_. That would be FAR too convenient for him, to have his body pop back up with a sheepish smile and say he was fine.

He walked closer to the body, ignoring the bloody footprints, and shooed Zim away. Zim left with a scowl to go up the elevator, dragging Jimmy behind him. Johnny knelt closer to the body to feel the wound himself. The blood loss wasn't serious, but the significant bump on the skull definitely indicated irrepairable internal damage. He knew enough about deadly wounds to know the difference between unconsciousness and death. The skin was already too pale, too cold. There was hardly any indication of the small amount of tan in his skin that resulted from his slightly Hispanic background. Johnny's body was now truly as pale as even the most sun deprived hermit.

It was strange to see all of this from the outside. Is this similar to how he looked when he died the first time?

"I don't mean to be rude," J told Nny after a moment. "But Unnamed, the poor, confused boy, has passed away. Didn't you need him?"

"Don't remind me!" Nny snarled, suddenly angry. "Now that he's dead, how am I supposed to fix everything? I can't even...AGH!" He stamped his foot, sending up a small splash of blood. "**WHY.**" _Splash._ "**DOES.**" _Splash._ "**THIS.**" _Splash._ "**KEEP.**" _Splash._ "**HAPPENING TO ME?**" _Splash splash splash_.

Nny proceeded to start a little temper tantrum over how unfair the universe was to him. J, on the other hand, looked calmly up at the ceiling. "Computer?"

"Yes?" the robotic voice replied.

"**...I NEED HIM AND HE GOES AND FUCKING _DIES_ ON ME LIKE A _COWARD_ AND..." **Johnny continued to rant in the background.

"Is there any way for Nny to still use that body to get back to normal?" J asked.

**"...AND THEN _THEY _GO AND RE-CREATE MY VOICES, BEING ALL "LA-DEE-FRICKIN'-DA" ABOUT IT, TRYING TO GET ME TO COME BACK AND KILL THEM ALL, AND..."**

"That action is impossible," the computer told J. "Brain waves must be present in order for minds to move between bodies."

**"...ALIEN TEAMING UP WITH THAT JIMMY PERSON, AND OH, DON'T EVEN GET ME _STARTED_ ON..."**

"I see," J mumbled sadly. "Well, since Johnny doesn't have anybody left to permanently take over, does that mean he'll be stuck as Dib forever?"

**"...AND THEY THINK THAT RUNNING AND SCREAMING AT THE SIGHT OF ME DOESN'T IRRITATE ME IN ANY WAY, SINCE IT'S 'NORMAL' TO RUN FROM LUNATICS..."**

"Incorrect. There is one fairly healthy available body with enough similar genetics and brainwaves for Johnny to permanently take over instead of simply inhabiting them like a parasite, as he's been doing," Computer told J.

**"...THEN THEY START SINGING 'ONE BY ONE WE BITE THE DUST' AND THINK I WOULD _LIKE _IT WHEN I DON'T WANT TO BE _REMINDED_ OF THE TERRORS I'VE COMITTED UPON PEOPLE LIKE THEM, AND..."**

"Who?" J asked, though his strong sense of dread indicated he clearly knew.

**"...HOBOS KEEP FOLLOWING ME AROUND AND KIDNAPPING PEOPLE AND QUOTING HAPPY NOODLE BOY LIKE I EVEN CARE ABOUT THEM, AND..."**

"You," Computer said. "He could take over you." J hung his head in despair, not looking forward to what he was going to have to go through. But maybe, just maybe, he could make Johnny into a more sane, slightly happy person simply by corrupting his mind mid-process. He looked over at Johnny with a carefully hopeful smile. Maybe this could work.

**"WHERE THE FUCK DO TOE TAGS GO ON DEAD PEOPLE WITHOUT FEET?"**

Scratch that. He was doomed.


	14. Originality

**Author's Note: And so, the confusion of body switching finally ends. Dib does act a bit oblivious, which I think people forget that Dib is sometimes - he's only a child after all, in spite of his heightened perception and higher intelligence. And...um...a very minor twist, I guess it could be called? Don't let the twist fool you - the story IS ending very soon. This chapter, after being posted, will probably go through many minor revisions so it flows more nicely into the next chapter I have yet to write.**

* * *

Since he was busy ranting about random things nobody cared about, Johnny did not hear a single word of the conversation Zim's Computer and J were having. All he knew was that there was a lot of muffled whispers, and the next, he was lifted up roughly by his arms. He kicked and squirmed, not being able to see what was holding him. Zim and that Jimmy bastard were upstairs, no doubt plotting something, and J was still on the other side of the room, chained to a wall with his work clothes looking tattered and bloody. It was only when Johnny looked at the ceiling did he see what was going on. The metal coils of the ceiling itself were wrapped around his wrists and slowly moving him closer to J. This unwarranted skin contact, even if the other person wasn't technically a person, infuriated him.

"Let me GO!" Johnny snarled, still kicking his legs angrily even though it was his _wrists_ that were restrained. "What are you doing? I don't want to be near HIM!"

"You must be in order for it to work," Computer responded in a bored tone. He was used to such protests and anger, so this tantrum didn't bother him in the slightest. "And your wrists are restrained because I doubt you would cooperate. You would most likely kill everyone otherwise."

"You're damn right I would!" Johnny snapped. His facial expression quickly changed from furious to a childlike pout when he realized the futility of his argument. "And what do you mean by 'it'?"

"You'll see," J softly replied. "Computer, could you please take these cuffs off of my own wrists? They hurt quite a lot, and I need my hands for the next part of the procedure."

"No. I can't have either of you moving mid-process. The results would cause both of your brains to explode, and then I would have to be put in charge of cleaning up the disgusting mess," Computer replied bluntly. Johnny still wasn't listening to a word of the conversation. He was contemplating whether he should gnaw his arms off like a coyote, but decided against it. If he were armless, he would have difficulty fighting back, and if Dib took control again, Johnny was fairly certain he wouldn't care to discover he was suddenly lacking arms. Johnny would find it hilarious. Dib...might not.

J paused, then thought of an alternative to Computer's situation. "What if you take the cuffs off, but restrain my waist and ankles? That way I can still participate and nothing will go badly."

"...Very well." J winced as more cuffs cinched tightly over his ankles and a metal band appeared, trapping him against the wall with very little movement, but he sighed with relief when the cuffs around his wrists vanished. He brought them down and rubbed them gratefully.

"Thank you. That's...that's much better."

Johnny squirmed more in the grasp of the cords, never taking his eyes off of J's. "What are you planning? TELL ME! TELL ME OR I'LL KILL YOU, YOU SELF-RIGHTEOUS, SECRET-KEEPING SECRET CLONE-TYPE...SECRET THING!"

"You won't kill me, and like I said, you'll see soon enough." J took some of the electrodes offered to him by Computer and placed them carefully over the writhing boy in front of him. He then placed a few on his own face, knowing that doing so would eventually lead to his death. "Computer, record my last thoughts, would you? I know you can read them thanks to these...probably soon-to-be painful electrodes...and I request that you type my last thoughts on paper and give them to Nny when the time is right. Now, when I give you the signal, you may start."

J took a deep breath, composing himself, almost meditating in a way. He directed his thoughts outward and felt the computer recording them into a letter to be delivered later. It was an instantaneous process that otherwise would have taken quite a while to write by hand. When he finally looked up and nodded, he felt it start. A spiky probe entered his mind, causing the normally mellow J to cry out in intense pain and fear. Johnny's thoughts were literally attacking his own, tearing them to shreds, carving out his brain from the inside out. He was certain that neither Johnny nor Dib felt this amount of pain, and that he only felt it because he was being erased from existence. It was sheer agony that would cause even the toughest of humans to plead for mercy. J took a few last, shuddering breaths, then succumbed to the darkness, hoping he could apologize to everyone Nny had killed who wound up in heaven if he arrives there as well.

* * *

Dib felt everything the whole time Johnny was controlling him; the splashes of blood landing on him after Nny's rage at Unnamed dying, the coils of Zim's house wrapping tightly around his arms, even the small electrode-type things sticking to his face. He had observed everything from the outside when it came to emotional matters, however. He had no power at all over what he said or did. He could only watch himself swear at life in general and kick hopelessly at empty air as he was restrained by the arms. Dib inwardly sighed. He had no idea what this whole mission would turn into when he took it up. It was supposed to be easy. Let Johnny's brain take over Zim's pak, watch them both go insane in an epic multiple personality battle against each other, then wait for further instructions from the Swollen Eyeballs. Now it was all beyond his control. When he was aware, he felt unstable, with a maniac ready to leap into action at any moment. When he wasn't aware, he was forced to watch as he injured other people and went against any moral he ever had.

But then...oh, the sheer relief of it...everything unpleasant faded. Sharp edges softened, unneeded memories vanished, and he felt a slow wave of calmness wash over him. He opened his eyes of his own volition and breathed in...1...2...3...and breathed out. Dib smiled to himself. Everything in his mind was back to normal and fully belonged to him. Zim's computer gently lowered him to the ground and removed the electrodes from his face.

"So...I guess it's done," a voice muttered above him. Dib looked up to the owner of the voice, J, and grinned up at him.

"I bet you're happy about that, huh? Now you don't have to follow my dad's orders anymore and you can do whatever you want!"

The man stared blankly down at him before raising an eyebrow. "Well...I guess you're technically right. But I'm not as happy about it as you might think. I'm not feeling very peppy at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. Computer, if you please...?" The cuffs in the walls retracted immediately. Dib watched him fall to the floor unceremoniously, face first, then hiss in pain when he tried to put weight on his bad leg. The very knee that was stabbed by Dib's own hand at the command of Johnny. Dib felt a bit guilty for that, even though he, himself, had not been directly responsible. Zim and Johnny were. Zim, for forcing him to be Johnny's unwilling servant rather than Zim himself, and Johnny because he just couldn't control his rage. But J was different. He just wanted to get rid of all the evil in the world by whatever means necessary, and yet was intensely hated for it. Dib knew exactly how he felt. So, with both sympathy and empathy in his heart, Dib helped a limping J over to the lab table, stepping around Unnamed's body in the process. J sat down on the table gratefully.

"Hey, when you heal and stuff, you wanna help me expose Zim to the world before he takes it over?" Dib asked hopefully. It would feel good to have an adult on his side for once. One that WOULDN'T betray him, unlike Dwicky. That jerk. Surely would be different, right?

"I'll pass. I don't really care if he takes over the world. Hell, I doubt that he ever WILL, with or without you stopping him," came the response. Dib looked puzzled at the apathy apparent in J's normally warm voice, then suddenly gasped and stepped back several steps.

"J-Johnny? But where's..."

"That therapist wannabe?" Johnny said. He made a dramatic 'poof!' motion with his hands. "Gone! He has kicked the bucket, is pushing up daisies, has cashed out, moved on, crossed the styx, gave up the ghost, bit the dust, anything you wish to call it. It all amounts to 'dead' anyway. It was kinda cool, actually. I killed him with my MIND. I never did that before, if you don't count my Heaven trip that may or may not have been real." Johnny ripped off one of his sleeves suddenly and bandaged his knee expertly. It was a strange sight to see; a grown man with ripped, bloody work clothes mending a damaged knee with one of his own ripped off work shirt sleeves while sitting on an alien lab table.

Zim's computer screen started to blink then, showing the words 'Incoming Message. Accept or Deny?'. Dib stared at the screen, ever so tempted to rush over there and immediately intercept the message. It was obviously other aliens! How could he pass that chance up? Johnny smirked, hopped off the lab table, and strode over to the screen with a slight limp. Dib watched him carefully with confusion etched on his face. He was under the impression that Johnny hated aliens, and only worked with Zim to get everything back to normal! Why would he willingly talk to unfamiliar ones? Johnny straightened his posture and held his hands behind his back. The strong looking stance disguised all visible injuries and made him appear taller than he was.

"Accept the transmission, Computer," Nny replied. He chuckled softly to himself. "I think I know what this might be about. And don't let Zim see it upstairs, please. This message is definitely not intended for him."

The screen changed abruptly, revealing both Tallest. Red appeared to be staring down the camera, while Purple was fidgeting and refusing to make direct eye contact for too long.

"Greetings, human filth" Red growled.

"Salutations, Irken scum," Nny returned, sounding more amused than angry. He even attempted an ironic bow with a sweeping arm motion, just to piss them off. "I assume you have some questions, hm?"

Purple finally looked up at the screen. "Actually...I do. Not him."

"I was referring to you in the first place, _Pur_."

Purple flinched at his nickname, then appeared to muster up some courage. "I should have guessed, _Nny_. Just to let you know, though, Red is more easily angered than I am right now. I was really angry a few minutes before we sent the call, but now I just...Anyway. Red is mad, and he has his talons resting on a button that will fire a laser to Earth."

Dib screamed out and dove heroically towards the computer, attempting to hijack the computer's signal and destroy the doomy machine through the electronics. Computer electrocuted him and held him to the ceiling like he did with Johnny not moments earlier. It all took less than five seconds, making Dib's efforts appear far more pathetic and less heroic than he intended.

Nny blinked, then shrugged. "So? I don't care. Go ahead and do it, Red. It will save me the trouble of committing suicide if you just kill me off."_  
_

Purple shook his head. "No, you don't understand. It would not blow up the world. It would just kill everyone except you and the particularly nasty humans on Earth. The kind that ridicule and judge. All the good ones would be dead. Including...what was his name... Squee! And Devi, of course. Also, all Brainfreezy machines. It will also keep you alive forever. Literally. Except you can still get caught and feel pain and stuff. And if you get a horrible wound that kills you, it will bring you back to life again with those same powers again. Think of your Earthly show 'Dr.W' or something with regeneration. Same concept, but it's an infinite loop, it is incredibly painful, and you look the exact same each time. Actually, nothing like the show. Just simple regeneration."

"That's a...VERY...complicated laser," Johnny pointed out, one eyebrow raised. "Very specific, too."

"It will do all of that, though. Irken scientists thrive on challenges such as this, especially if you oppress them enough," Red promised. He raised a nonexistent brow as well. "Are you sure you still want me to?"

"...I suppose not. It would inconvenience me too much."

Dib rolled his eyes, honestly sick of the entire conversation and still hurting from his failed heroic attempt. "Well, that's just SO generous of you, Johnny! Not letting aliens permanently damage the Earth because it would inconvenience you? Not because countless innocents would be killed? WOW. Would you like to accept the Nobel Prize in person or have it shipped to you?"

Johnny turned to him slowly, expression dark. "Shipped in a cardboard box with bubble wrap. I could trap you in the box, duct tape it shut with no air holes, and beat you repeatedly with the metal statue. As for the bubble wrap..." Johnny smirked at Dib's fearful expression. "Well, I would pop ALL the bubbles to pass the time while you are bleeding to death, shuddering with pain from the broken bones and leaking organs, your throat panting out pleas for mercy!"

"That's him being generous," Purple added. "He's actually censoring himself right now since you are a weak-minded human child. He could think of much worse. Trust me, I know."

Johnny turned back to the Tallest, Dib's presence nearly forgotten already. "I have noticed several references in your earlier speech, Pur. References to Earth culture, society as a whole, and my own previous thoughts. Is that what you had questions about?"

"Kinda. So...you'll answer them?"

"I've got nothing better to do. Ask me almost anything, and I'll probably answer it." Johnny leaned back against Zim's lab table, preparing himself mentally for the inevitable questions about his personal life and Earth in general. What he was not aware of, however, was Zim's quiet reappearance.

Zim had arrived in the lab around the time of Johnny's death threat towards Dib, leaving Jimmy upstairs playing a thing called GTA. It pleased him to see the Dib-monkey so terrified of another human. He turned his attention towards the original body of Nny, still quite dead, and quietly dragged him in to an adjacent lab chamber, locking the body in there until further notice. He could probably use it for something later, such as learning more about human organs, or using the DNA for an experiment in genetic mutation. Perhaps he could even fashion a holographic disguise using the body as a template for Computer to scan! Either way, it would be involved in one of his AMAZING future plans!

As he arrived back in the main room, he heard the voice of his Tallest! When had they called? Surely Computer would inform him! And the Johnny beast had the audacity to intercept it in Zim's own base? How dare he! But wait! The Johnny human was offering information? This was too good to be true! Now not only will his future disguise look like Johnny, but now he will learn about the human's innermost secrets and personality traits, adding to the efficiency of his disguise! He could even learn better ways to kill the human slime polluting this pitiful ball of rock called a planet, and place the blame on another human so that the Dib will have no proof it was actually him! Yes...YES...two plans in one! He's a GENIUS!


End file.
